


At Least Friends

by kixyme



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Tim Drake, Canon-Typical Violence, Demisexual Jason Todd, Emphasis On Slow Burn, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Flashbacks, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd is a Good Dad, Kidnapping, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, SUBJECT TO CHANGE, Slow Burn, The Batfamily is Not Alright, Time Skips, Torture, Weekly Updates, there is so much plot and so much slow burn I’m so sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:14:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28458867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kixyme/pseuds/kixyme
Summary: His subconscious was calling. The water was dark, black, nothingness that Tim wanted to immerse himself in until all feeling left him. It was welcoming and beautiful and deadly.How easy it would be to dive in, forbidding you to leave, forbidding you to come up from air.How easy it would be to forget.—Or the one where Tim becomes the Justice League’s Oracle and Jason becomes a dad.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Stephanie Brown & Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown & Tim Drake, Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42





	1. The Here and Now

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, this story will be updating weekly! If enough people end up liking it I can up it to twice a week.
> 
> Please read the tags/warnings, and I hope you enjoy! :)

No one dubbed a superhero cared about politics. Not really. Unless you were Clark Kent, a writer for the Daily Planet, whatever was going on in politics didn’t matter unless they were a threat. Because either way, _like it or not,_ whoever America, for example, put in charge of their entire country was going to have to work with them, like it or not. Timothy was the closest to the President of the United States right now, speeding along the Southwest Freeway in one of his absurdly expensive cars on his way to the Hall of Justice in Washington D.C. 

This was his life now. He spent a lot of his time in this car, back and forth on long, expansive roads, back and forth from home and here, and occasionally Gotham where the rest of the Bats were. If he didn’t have a social life then, he certainly didn’t have one now. He frowned when he heard his phone ring, interrupting his music. He was surprised to see Dick’s name on the interface. He didn't call unless he needed something. Correction: If _Bruce_ needed something. Tim sighed and took a hand through his hair nervously, and hit a button on the side of the wheel that answered the call.

“Dick, I was just in Gotham. What happened?” Tim asked, cutting to the chase. He was _just_ there a few hours ago to attend a meeting at Wayne Enterprises, and then avoided Wayne Manor all together. He didn’t have time to stop by and say hello, but he had no doubt his entire extended family knew he was there, passing through.

“Nothing. Can you make it back to Gotham after work?” Dick cut to the chase too. Tim narrowed his eyes. He should have known.

“Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say.” Tim sighed. Dick hesitated. Tim let the line go silent as he took an exit off the freeway. “Dick.” He said, once he’d stopped the car and slumped back into his seat at a light. 

“He has another one this month, what do you want me to say? Someone else has to be there.”

“Why does that someone else always have to be me?” Tim complained. He knew he shouldn’t, but he did because Dick was probably the only one who understood a fraction of the stress he was under. That only happened to be because the first Boy Wonder was empathetic. He couldn’t say the same about his boyfriend, he couldn’t say the same about Bruce. One would brush him off, and one would try to one-up him. And he didn't care for any of that.

“Listen, Damian, Cass, and Steph are all out of the country. You know the girls won’t be back for a while, and Damian’s off with the Titans. That means it’s just me, B, Jay, and the kid. That’s asking for trouble.” Tim wrinkled his nose. He wanted to say no, but he couldn’t. 

“Fine. Regular time?” Tim muttered, pulling into the underground entrance of the Hall of Justice. He could afford it. This was what he’d convinced himself, but regretted it as soon as Dick started to talk again. 

“Really?” Dick asked, his voice going cheery, into the normal cadence of Dick Grayson. As if all of the man’s worries were washed away. Tim parked dangerously close to the wall.

“Yeah, really. Now let me go so I _can_ be there.”

“Right, busy Justice League stuff, got it. See ya later tonight.” Tim was throwing himself into an elevator before his car even powered down all the way, and didn't catch Dick’s last sentence. To reiterate, _this was his life now._ When Bruce said he would be running the Justice League, all those years ago, he meant it. And surprisingly enough they were happy to have him. 

This was Tim’s gig. While Batman kept his eyes on Gotham, Tim was being the Justice League’s personal Oracle. Anyone who operated through the Justice League answered to him, contacted him, had him help with their cases, surveillance, etc. And who wouldn’t make use of his genius level intellect? The only reason Tim was in the position instead of Bruce was so he could have experience and because he _was_ getting smarter. His annoyingly accurate percentages and predictions were definitely a hit. When he wasn’t doing Justice League work, he was doing Wayne Enterprises work on the side. And he was updating the computer on every possible case he could get his hands on—which was mostly all of them—uploading information, organizing files… 

“Afternoon, Drake.” “Good afternoon.” “Hey, are you free to talk about a case later? I need help sorting the details.” “Hello!” “What squads are you sending out to deal with the flood crises?” “Off to work?” “Kiddo, wouldja mind if I patched into your comm system later?”

Drake nodded to all of them, people running in and out, gave them a few promises he’d probably forget in minutes’ time, on the way to the computer. It’s located in the main meeting area, but he has it rearranged to be in the back of the room so he could have an eye on the entrance at all times. A habit he had picked up. Whoever’s there could go about their business, and he’d be there in the corner, minding his _own_ business, slaving over piles and piles of cases and his work from Wayne Enterprises. And he’d been situated there long enough that people knew where to find him when they wanted him. He’s also got his comm in his ear at all times, with channels set up for any and everyone who wanted one. And whenever _he_ wanted anyone, he could hack into their comms pretty easily. It’s like some of them were even expecting him to do it at some point or another.

Tim suddenly caught Superman out of the corner of his eye, Jon trailing behind him. Any other day he wouldn’t mind a conversation with Superman, the guy was a breath of fresh air and normality, but he’s got a conversation with his clone waiting for him later. After he’s done enough work to feel comfortable attending one of Bruce’s galas. After he’s done enough work for him to feel comfortable sleeping another night. 

Superman came up to him anyway, as Jon went off to bother someone. If it weren’t for the different costumes and Clark’s graying hair, Tim’s unsure if he’d be able to tell them apart. Jon was all height and muscle like his father. Kon might be a clone, but he didn't compare to Clark or Jon in strength or size.

“Hello there, Drake. I saw you added a coffee machine here a few days ago. Have you been sleeping well?” He asked, gesturing to the machine sitting only a Superman-sized arm’s length from where Tim was sitting. Tim didn't even look up from his work when he responded, because he knew Clark cared about every single person in the building, and tiny Tim Drake who still looked like he was twenty-two and a modern day college student didn't look like he was doing particularly well. 

“Lots of work to do, Superman. Wouldn’t want to disappoint.” Tim replied, and he could sense the man’s frown, lurking above him from where he was hovering.

“Listen, some time or other you’re going to have to go to sleep. You look like you’re about ready to pass out. If you have to take time off, then you have to take time off. You know that, right?” Clark asked, and Tim knew better not to argue. Of course Superman was right. But Tim couldn't chance that. Especially not tonight when he’d be leaving in four hours. Distantly Tim noted to himself whoever the hell asked to have herself in his ear would have to understand Tim would be listening, but mute while attending the gala. It was the most he could do. 

“Yes, sir,” Tim replied. “I promise I will.” Tim held his gaze for a few seconds before looking away. “Is there anything else I can help you with, Superman?” Tim asked, changing the subject. Superman sighed, and patted him on the shoulder.

“No, that’s alright. And, hey, come in late tomorrow if you need, alright? We can afford not having you for one day.” Superman said, and before Tim could say anything else he was gone, rounding up Jon away from the gossip and talk being shared among some of their newer members. Tim remembered the day he looked at Superman at first, in awe. Now, anyone knew he was a real Batman fanboy, not a Superman fanboy, but still, seeing the Man of Steel in all of his glory right in front of him? Even _while_ he was a Robin, almost as equally famous, he couldn’t help but melt. And that’s what those newer members were doing now, and Superman just flashed his perfect smile, and then the pair of Kryptonians were off. 

Tim didn't think he was going to go in late tomorrow.

He could function on only a couple of intermittent hours of sleep, he’s done it before. Batman’s done it countless times, so why couldn't he? And it’s not like the physical output he maintained even compared to Bruce’s. All he’s doing was working at a desk. A 9 to 5 office job, that in reality had two shifts instead of just one. The first shift was from 9AM to 5PM and the next was from 5PM to 1AM. Did that sound like 16 hours of work? Because it should have, and he was trying to do as much as he could everyday. There wasn't another person suitable to cover the other shift, so he did as much work as possible to cover it. Not saying that someone couldn't--he could apprentice someone--but he didn't want to risk it. Because he knew how it felt to let someone as important as Superman or Batman down, and wasn’t about to put that on some teenager. He wasn’t.

Coming in late tomorrow was beginning to sound like a good idea.

\--

“You’re not going to be home tonight?”

“No, I’m sorry. I can’t skip out on it,” Tim explained. “They need me.” He added, wincing at himself for sounding desperate. He felt bad. He really did. He already didn't see Kon enough, but this was the icing on the cake.

“Batman can’t give you a break _once?_ Not once? You’re always working, Tim. _Always working._ ” He repeated, and Tim could feel the memory of a past argument curling into his gut and making him sick to his stomach. 

“I know. I know I am,” His voice came out like a whine, and he hated himself for it. Hated how wrong he was right now, hated how disappointed Kon was, but also hated that Kon did _not_ get it. “I promise that it’ll all stop one day, okay? Everything will calm down eventually. That’s a promise.” Tim sighed, fixing his hair in his rear view mirror as he sat at a stop light. The line was silent, and Tim thought he had hung up.

“You’re not going to give me a percentage on the probability?” Kon’s voice was dry. Humorless. They’ve done this before. The whole promising things were going to get better, the groping for straws, the _pretending it was okay._ And Kon was over it. And Tim has never had patience, and he knew he didn't have the time for this right now. 

“We’ll talk later when I get home.” 

“And when will that be?” Kon snorted.

“Probably around one. I’ll make some excuse to leave early.” 

“Okay,” there’s a pause. “I love you.”

Tim’s right hand hovered over the button to end the call. “I love you too.” He said, and pressed on the button. The same hand moved to dial Dick, who picked up immediately.

“Where are you?”

“Running late. ETA is five. Have the crowds started to spill in?” Tim asked. He was thankful he’d decided to get dressed at the Hall of Justice. 

“Yeah, but you can bet your ass Jason’s late.” Dick growled, and Tim scoffed. Dick and Bruce, attending to the crowd all by themselves? Oh, the _pain_. Oh, the _misery_. A part of Tim found this funny, but he wouldn’t dare let Dick know. He bit down his laughter.

“I’ll be there soon.” Tim said.

When he did get there, Tim was overrun by the scream of people, flocking over to him. Cameras flashed his way and a barrage of people were trying to get his attention. The last time they needed another Wayne at one of the galas was months ago, and Tim had been asked to appear again. The crowd had the same response. Dick, Damian, Bruce, and begrudgingly Jason were all constants at the galas. Tim was fresh meat and all lucrative business. If someone wanted to talk about Wayne Enterprises, they’d go to him. He was the co-CEO after all. It also didn’t hurt he was pretty in a way the other men _weren’t._

Thank God Dick was there to save him, his arm suddenly wrapped around his shoulders. Tim accepted the glass of champagne Dick pressed into his hand, and took a grateful sip. He hasn’t had a drink other than coffee in a very long time. Let alone water.

“Where are the other three?” Tim asked into his glass as Dick steered him away from the door. Traffic had been a nightmare on the way to Wayne Manor because of all the other people who wanted to be there, and he had a feeling Jason got there before him.

“Nathan’s out of it. He just got here and people wouldn’t leave him alone. It’s like what used to happen to Damian, but it’s not like he’s used to feeling like he’s a superior being.” Dick muttered under his breath, and distantly Tim could see Jason, entertaining a large crowd. Tim stared.

Jason was no doubt wearing a suit of Bruce’s. They might as well have been the same size. It hugged him tightly around his shoulders, and hung high on his hips... On second thought, it didn't fit. But he made it work. Tim noted Jason would probably look good in any damn thing he wore. Tim doubted the guy even did his hair, and yet he still looked great. Dick bumped him.

“Are you all there?” Dick asked, putting a hand to his shoulder. Tim sighed, and acted like he had been scanning the room. Bruce was talking to various women, Nathaniel was sitting to the side, nursing a glass of champagne, and Jason was staring at him from across the room. Tim turned away.

“Yeah, yeah. Comm in my ear.” Tim reached up to turn it off, when in reality it had been off the entire time. Turns out it wasn’t just Superman who thought he needed a break. The moment Tim told that one person he had a gala to attend to, she was more than eager to let him go.

_“Have fun kiddo!”_

Tim grabbed the hand on his shoulder, and Dick softened beneath it. “I’m here,” Tim stated, meeting his eyes. “I’m here. Right now. Okay?” Dick nodded, taking in the information with his eyes squeezed shut. Tim knew Dick missed him. He might not have always been good at showing his love to Tim particularly, but not having him in the Batcave, not having him in arm’s reach… that bothered him. And the fact their relationship with Jason could crumble in seconds if Dick pushed too hard, got into some stupid argument… he couldn't risk it. 

And Tim couldn't risk any of it. Not Jason, not Dick, not _anything_. He couldn’t.

\--

“I’m serious. Please. I’ve already asked Damian to come home, we need all the hands we can get. We need you to come back here, just until Stephanie and Cassandra return.” This was not what Tim signed up for in the slightest. And he had just gotten away from talking to people who felt it was their place to bring up the _accident_ that happened to him all those years ago. He was not in the mood for his adopted father.

“Bruce, do you know how much work I’ve had to let slide just to be here?” Tim asked. “Do you want me to tell them Gotham’s out of control? To tell them I need to spend my undivided attention here?” Tim has had more than a few drinks. It turned out the champagne was the breath of fresh, alcoholic air he desperately needed. He was halfway out the door, through one of their secret exits, and Bruce had caught him. Had Tim not been avoiding him all night, knowing something like this was to come, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. But it was happening.

“I’m asking you to keep an eye on us more than you keep an eye on others. That’s it. I see all the work you’re doing. I see how much you’ve done for the Justice League. Do you think I don’t want you to be at the Hall of Justice right now? Do you think I don’t want to be out on patrol? We’re low on numbers over here. Think it over once you get more than 4 hours of sleep, alright?” Bruce asked him, putting a hand on his shoulder to steady him. Tim looked away toward the exit.

“Fine. I will.” Tim submitted to it only a minute later, and sighed and leaned into Bruce like he was the only thing capable of holding him up. It was the closest thing they were going to get to a hug then, but it would do. And the last time Tim properly hugged Bruce? Don’t make him laugh.

“Does he need a ride?” Tim glanced up to see Jason, making his way over to them. Nathaniel was lurking in the background, sensing this was something he didn't want to get involved in. Tim diverted his eyes, looked at his feet. 

“Thanks, but no. I’ll be fine.”

“Tim--” Bruce warned, reaching out like he was going to stop him. Tim knew he wouldn't. Tim met Jason’s eyes, who had already read him like a hawk. Bruce saw a tired, drunk Tim and Jason saw something else entirely. He held his gaze, and then Jason was turning over his shoulder, grabbing his son by the arm and dragging him out of there. Nathaniel gave Tim a small smile as Jason dragged him out of the room.

Tim would be lucky if he didn't crash into anything tonight on his way home.

\--

Tim and his boyfriend lived in Virginia, right between the Hall of Justice and Gotham. Kon was _not_ living in Gotham, and the place there was discreet enough that no one would bother them, villain or cape. They looked to be the typical working couple on the outside, both busy all of the time. The larger one was home more, and the tinier one was always in and out wearing a business suit or sweatpants. And other than that, their neighbors didn’t care about them.

So when Tim pulled into the driveway of their suburban house in their suburban neighborhood, he was in a horrible mood. He was tired. He was drunk. He was wishing he accepted the ride from Jason, or at least grabbed a taxi service. And he was wishing Kon would be asleep when he got inside.

He wasn’t. He sat right up in their bed once Tim had shuffled in, steadying himself on their door. 

“Are you… drunk?” Kon asked him, watching him curiously. Tim mumbled a yes, but shook his head. He shrugged out of his jacket, shucked off his pants, and threw all of it to a chair. He was normally nicer to his clothes, but he was not in the mood.“Uh, Tim, what’s wrong with you?” Kon asked as Tim slid atop of him, perching in his lap. Tim shoved his hair back with his hand, getting it out of his face. 

“I want you. I want you really, really badly.” Tim whispered, and Kon looked him up and down in awe. Kon was nice. Tim was lucky to have him. He had been his best friend for years. _He was enough._

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Kon asked again, and Tim leaned forward, ignoring him.

No. He wasn’t okay, and this wasn’t him. This was a calculation. Tim _could_ fake not being drunk. He _could_ fake that he was fine. But he couldn’t fake his lack of an answer for not being home. He couldn’t fake not being a good boyfriend with a healthy relationship because deep down he saw it wasn’t true. But Tim was happy.

He was happy as he rested his head in Kon’s lap. He convinced himself he liked it when Kon’s nails dug into his shoulders. He convinced himself he liked it.

Tim was happy.


	2. Why Does This Sound Familiar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9 years ago. Jason adopts a kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hope you enjoyed the first chapter!
> 
> This chapter is a glance into the “past.”
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Tim was in his early thirties. That left Dick in his late forties, Jason his late thirties, Damian in his mid twenties… they were all getting old. Barbara was in her fifties, though she didn’t really look like it, Steph and Cass were around Tim’s age, and now the youngest one out of all of them was Nathaniel.

Jason Todd adopted a kid nine years ago. 

At that point, Jason was still keeping to his part of Gotham, only his neighborhood in Crime Alley. Still not really speaking to any of the family, still not the greatest of friends with Tim, everything was normal. Then, the very person who was on Bruce’s ass for bringing children into a world they shouldn’t be brought into, was there picking up a kid from the streets.

It took him three weeks to tell them what he’d done. He’d called Barbara frantically, voice shaking, telling her he had no idea what to do, and that he needed help. Tim had been sitting right beside her, helping her work as Oracle, as practice before he went to the Justice League. He heard the whole conversation, unbeknownst to Jason.

“Babs, Babs help me--” There’s a crash in the background, and Barbara and Tim sprang into action, rushing to their security feeds in Crime Alley, trying to find him. “I need-- This fucking _brat_ is tearing up my place I can’t-- Oh for fuck’s sake--” He cut off, and Tim heard his voice drop into a softer octave, and he could hear crying. A kid’s crying. Barbara and Tim shared a glance. What the hell was going on?

“Jay? What’s going on? Where are you?”

“My damn safehouse. I-- I took this kid in and-- God, can you help me?” Barbara looked at Tim again, and Tim shrugged, eyes wide.

“Of course we can.”

\--

“Dick Grayson is that you?” Barbara breathed as she and Tim peered out of the window, hovering by the front entrance of the manor, watching as Jason parked his motorcycle in their driveway and as the kid he had with him started running circles around him. Jason chucked his helmet to the ground with a crash that didn’t even make the kid jump, and grabbed him by the scruff. Not only had Tim not properly talked to Jason in years, he didn't think he'd ever seen him in civvies. Jason spotted them in the window.

“Hope you guys are fucking ready for this one,” Jason shouted, his voice no doubt making it through the bulletproof glass. “Tim, get ready to catch him!” He finished, and he let the kid go. Tim’s eyes went wide, and when the kid came barrelling through the door, bouncing up and down, Tim put him in a lock, arms pitted behind his back.

Barbara was sweet, and rolled up to the kid in her wheelchair who was not fazed by Tim’s aggressive force. He was looking around with wide, curious eyes. 

“Oh my god, how does he know you people?” The kid asked, marveling at the expensive place that was Wayne Manor. Jason shut the door behind him, and leaned against it. He looked like the life had been drained out of him. 

“What’s your name?” Barbara asked, leaning in closer. The kid met her gaze without hesitation.

“Nate!” He grinned, and Jason scoffed. 

“His name is _Nathaniel_.” He corrected, stepping closer with narrowed eyes, hands on his hips. “ _I_ call him Nate.” Nathaniel’s eyes lit up with glee, smiling at Jason like he was his world. He might as well may have been.

“What brings you here, Nathaniel?” Barbara asked, as Nathaniel took a cursory glance around the place again. 

“If I’m ‘t be honest,” Nathaniel began, furrowing his eyebrows at Barbara, “I have no clue what the hell the Red Hood has to do with some place as nice as this.” Jason looked about ready to pop the kid, but not for the reason Barbara and Tim think as they both froze in shock.

“You told him?” Tim asked, the color draining his face. Jason pinched his nose, silencing the grinning kid with a glare.

“He figured it out awhile ago. The little asshole’s smarter than he looks,” Jason muttered, crossing his arms. “And I told you to watch your _mouth_ , Nate.”

“Figured out what?” Tim pressed. As far as he was aware, Jason Todd didn't exist. Not in any legal way. 

“As in, the kid could tell just by _looking_ who Batman was. And yet apparently he doesn’t even know where he is right now.” Jason grumbled. Nathaniel gasped, and struggled to get out of Tim’s hold. Tim didn’t budge.

“Are we at his house? That rich guy’s house?” Nathaniel asked, bouncing more than before. Barbara glanced at Jason, and punched him in the side to get his attention.

“Jason, this isn’t good. In no shape or way is this good news. Where’re his parents?” Barbara asked him, tone going accusatory. Tim’s expecting a fight to break out, but instead the opposite happened. Jason’s face lost all color, and he shifted his weight to his other foot. Tim has not seen Jason without his helmet for _years_ , and he does not feel comfortable seeing him like this. He was used to looking for tells, but Jason was being so uncharacteristically open Tim couldn't even comprehend it. 

“He has one parent.” Jason whispered, and Nathaniel had enough sense to stay quiet. Barbara and Tim were silent. But Barbara and Jason were closer than he and Tim ever were. Barbara put a hand on his arm and tugged on his sleeve.

“What are you not telling us?” Barbara asked. Tim felt deep in his gut he knew, and he couldn’t help but feel a little sick. Jason looked at Tim, stared daggers into his eyes, and Tim got the feeling Jason was looking at him because he _couldn’t_ look at Barbara. 

“Nate and I-- Nathaniel and I, we’ve been friends for a little over a year.” He lowered his gaze from Tim to look at the kid, who had miraculously stayed quiet. “Not great parents, not great life. Grew up like me.” Jason’s smile showed a pained sort of emotion, not one of joy.

“Jason. You didn’t.” Tim breathed, and Jason lowered his eyes. 

“He’s a brat, but-- uh. Yeah. He’s mine.” Jason muttered, and Nathaniel yelled in protest when Tim’s grip tightened on him. Barbara and Tim went deathly silent, but Jason was lucky no one else was home other than Alfred. If it had been Dick here, or Bruce… fight would have broken out. It was probably why he had called Barbara in the first place. 

“You did _not_ just adopt a kid.” Barbara hissed, and had Jason been at her wheelchair level she would have swiped the back of his head. She punched him again, harder. 

“Signed the fucking papers and everything. I couldn’t just leave him out there.” Jason tried to explain, his voice raising an octave. He was about the same age Bruce was when he adopted Dick. But out of all of them to get a kid… _Jason?_

“How long has he been with you?” Tim asked, and Jason’s eyes met his. 

“A month. But I can’t do it anymore. I can’t. You’re a _brat_.” Jason muttered, and the kid grinned mischievously.

“I’m not gonna sit around and do nothing. I wanna go outside!” Nathaniel explained, a smile still on his face. Jason crossed his arms.

“And that means being a terror. Going through my weapons, getting into my fuckin’ laptop, kid--” Nathaniel shrugged. “I love you, but you can’t do that. And so that’s why we’re here with people who can knock some sense into you.” The kid softened in Tim’s arms, and so he let him go. Nathaniel ran into Jason’s arms, latching himself around his leg.

“Crap,” Barbara muttered, leaning back to her wheelchair with an exasperated sigh. “Bruce is going to flip his shit.” Barbara cursed, and Jason ran his hands through Nathaniel’s hair with a frown.

“‘Kid was dying. I’m not letting another kid like this starve. He’s _me._ ” Jason frowned, and Barbara shook her head, muttering under her breath.

“But you can’t--”

“Master Jason. Who is this?” Alfred made his presence known with no warning. Out of all of them, it was Alfred who was the most stealthy. Not because he was particularly quiet, but because everyone had grown used to his footsteps. It was background noise now. From the way Alfred watched all of their faces pale, and glanced down at Jason’s thigh where a pint-sized kid had wrapped his scrawny arms around him... “Oh dear,” He finally said, and took very quick steps toward the group, who had not left the entrance. “Did you…?” Alfred asked as Nathan uncurled from Jason’s leg.

“Yeah Alf, he’s mine.” Jason sighed. Alfred sputtered.

“Who-- Who’s the mother?” Alfred asked, and Jason almost screamed.

“God, no! Adopted. He’s adopted.” Jason fixed, but Alfred was unamused.

“You… adopted... a child?” Alfred asked again, and Jason gave him a grave nod.

“Nate, introduce yourself.” Jason said, nudging him. Nathaniel smiled, and Barbara could see it in Alfred’s eyes just as she did. Nathaniel was a tiny Dick Grayson. Who she came to learn _talked_ like Jason. Nathaniel sauntered over to the older man gladly, extending a joyous hand his way. 

“It is a pleasure to meet you, sir. My name is Nathaniel _Todd_.” He grinned, and Alfred smiled back.

“Truly a pleasure.” The man agreed, and turned to Jason. “You’re… certain about this? Does he _know_?” Alfred asked, gesturing to the child, and the three Bats nodded in unison.

“Mr. Wayne is the Batman,” Nathaniel said. He turned to the side and extended a finger toward Barbara sarcastically, “You know, you never see those two in the same room.” He chuckled and Barbara gave him an uncertain smile. 

“I can’t help but think this sounds very familiar,” Alfred said, pointedly over Nathaniel’s shoulder. Tim shifted to his other foot and crossed his arms, suddenly uncomfortable. This kid sure was the cream of the crop, wasn't he?

“I came here to get some help, Alf. He’s… uh. I need a babysitter while I’m patrolling--” Jason watched Alfred raise an eyebrow, “Or a-- what you were to me when I was just starting out. To him.” Jason gestured over to Tim, who stayed silent. “I don’t trust anyone else, and I want him to grow up right. I trust you.” Jason tried to explain. 

“We’re going to have to tell Bruce about this.” Barbara interjected, and Tim nodded. It wouldn’t surprise Tim if Bruce already knew they were here. 

Jason kicked at the floor with the toe of his boot.

“I really like him.” He glanced at all three of them. “And you guys… are alright with it?” He landed on Tim, for reasons Tim was personally unsure. Tim looked to the kid, and looked to Jason. Tim’s mind was working a mile a minute with plenty of things he wanted to say, but he didn't feel it was his place to answer. Too many of the things he wanted to say had uncertain outcomes.

“We know you’ll be fine Jason,” Barbara’s hand pried his gaze away from Tim as it landed on his arm. “We trust you on this.”

Although no one said anything, everyone was thinking about the one rule that made Jason the black sheep of the family in the first place. But Jason just happened to be surrounded by some of the only Bats that might just agree with him, if only a little. And it was up to him whether or not he wanted to suddenly begin following that rule.

\--

Nathaniel had Dick Grayson’s energy and mobility, Jason Todd’s way of talking and bargaining--learned from him growing up on the streets--and they soon came to learn he possessed somewhat of Tim Drake’s natural intellect. But that didn’t change the fact all three ex-Robins were dumbasses in their own right, and the kid was no exception.

“How old are you, Master Nathaniel?” Alfred asked, and Jason nudged the kid with his elbow, who was too busy wolfing down Alfred’s cooking. Jason was sitting by his side, checking his manners. Barbara and Tim were sitting at the opposite end of the table. Tim didn’t see it, but Barbara could see Jason as a boy in this kid. And that made her heart hurt.

Tim had run down earlier to inform the Bats out on patrol he and Oracle were off the comms. It had been a quiet night and it would not raise too much suspicion.

“I’m eight, sir.” Nathan replied once he’d caught his breath and choked most of his food down. Jason nudged him before he could start wolfing it down again. Jason took the fork out of his hands and demonstrated how to eat with manners. To Tim’s surprise, he picked it up immediately after watching Jason. It was as simple as that. And suddenly the kid was eating like a normal person.

The room was silent. While Jason may have been relieved to get a hold of Alfred’s cooking, the tension in his shoulders was undeniable. They were waiting for the inevitable return of Batman, Robin, and Nightwing. Orphan and Batgirl were out on their own mission together. The Bats at the manor on the other hand were bracing themselves for a total nuclear fallout. It was the quiet before the storm, and the kid was oblivious to it. But Tim couldn’t stand the awkward quiet, and he couldn’t help but be curious about the kid.

“How long have you been out on the streets alone?” Tim asked, and he could see Jason acknowledge the question the way his back tightened and from the way his one leg crossed over the other, but he let the kid answer.

“Maybe three years? Kinda lost count. A few people would give me food, but we were all homeless,” the kid shrugged, indifferently. “I was lucky to meet him.” Nathaniel said, and Jason said nothing.

“And where was it that you lived? Crime Alley?” Tim pressed. Nathaniel nodded.

“Yeah, but it wasn’t so bad… if you learn the patterns you avoid the trouble. You can’t be at the wrong place at the wrong time. You learn that the _hard_ way.” Nathaniel said, mouth full of food. Jason was suddenly out of his seat getting him more.

“You ever feed that kid?” Barbara asked with a chuckle, and Jason rolled his eyes as he slid the plate back toward Nathaniel, leaning to rest his forearms on the counter.

“Yeah, he’s a bottomless pit. I come home from patrol and suddenly all the vegetables are _gone_.” Jason mutter, and the kid kept eating, unfazed. Jason didn't strike Tim as someone who didn't live off of just cigarettes. But maybe Tim didn't know as much about Jason than he thought. He knew a good amount of him from years ago when he’d gone through the files on him, in addition to their few team ups before, but, again, maybe he knew less than he thought.

“I’d never had them before,” The kid countered. He turned to face Tim and Barbara. “He makes a lot of good stuff.” He said, and Barbara gave him a genuine smile that made Jason fume with embarrassment Tim could tell he was hiding. But before either of them could reply, all of them, Nathaniel included, could hear the distant rumble of the Batmobile’s tires pulling into the driveway. It didn't matter how silent the car was. If you’re a Bat, or a street kid like Nathaniel or even _Jason_ , the murmur of the Batmobile was undeniable.

Nathaniel looked up at Jason in alarm, sensing things were probably going to get serious. Batman and the Red Hood didn’t necessarily get along. And it was as if the kid was just now piecing together that Batman was currently in the building, and the person he’d deemed his father figure, sitting right next to him, didn’t really get along with him. 

“Hey kid, why don’t you stay with Alfred awhile. I’m gonna go say hi to the old man.” Jason finally said, and Alfred nodded, subservient to the request.

“Of course. This way, Master Nathaniel.” Alfred said, who had been listening into the conversation but cleaning up meanwhile. Nathaniel looked unsure, as if he could tell Jason wasn’t comfortable with this. Jason gave him a nod, and other than a sideways glance the kid didn’t argue. The three of them left in the room heard the pair having a conversation as they disappeared around the corner. “Now tell me about the things Master Jason has been cooking for you. All nutritious, I hope?”

“What are we going to do?” Barbara blurted first, as the tension in the room increased exponentially by the second. It was a rhetorical question, and neither Robin 2 or 3 had an answer. Tim was expecting a deflection, some sort of sarcastic quip. He didn't get one, and that didn't make him feel any better about the situation. He figured the chances of this going well were drastically decreasing. Or even increasing. He couldn't tell. And that also scared him.

The three of them waited, listening for the sound of the footsteps of the three vigilantes turning in for the night. Dick and Damian would be first, while Bruce hung behind perhaps for another hour. Tim got the feeling Bruce would come up a lot earlier than expected. 

Damian was sixteen. And yet, he was already so much taller than Tim was. And wider, too. He was going to get very large, just like Bruce. He was going to be able to rival Jason physically one day, and Tim wasn’t sure if he wanted to see that. He was about Dick’s height, and Tim saw Jason’s surprise when Damian walked in. Three to six years could do a lot to a kid, in Damian’s case.

“Todd,” Damian blurted, looking around the room to see three pairs of eyes on him. “What is going on?” He asked, and Tim watched Dick’s smile fade behind the boy, gaze landing on Jason with suspicion. But Jason had no visible weapons on him. He was not here to hurt. If anything, seeing Jason Todd like this in Wayne Manor with no warning meant he had bad news and was vulnerable. Just like Tim, Dick was uncomfortable to see Jason like this, even if Jason was making an effort to hide his tells now that Dick and Damian were there. All four of them were expecting Jason to say something, but he didn't. He was trying to think on how to _word_ what he was going to say.

“He had something happen recently, and he wants our help with it.” Barbara explained for him, and there wasn’t even a hint of anger from Jason for fighting his battle.

“Is it something bad? Jay, you--” Jason put a hand up to silence him. He wasn’t looking for Dick’s sympathy. Not when he knew this was going to go downhill.

“I have a new friend. I was hoping you guys would help me with him.” Jason said, tone monotone. Cautious. He wasn’t being an arrogant asshole right now. He was being sincere. Genuine. And that only raised more concern.

“What friend?” Damian asked, taking an uncertain step forward. He glanced around the place, as if he were expecting someone to jump out. Any friend of Jason Todd’s, that warranted their help in some way, could not be good news.

“A kid,” Jason began. “A kid who… a kid who’s going to be staying with me for awhile.” Jason said, and Tim watched as he ran his thumb over each one of his knuckles nervously. It was the only part of Jason moving. He was wearing sweatpants and a zip up sweatshirt. A wife beater underneath. He looked more like a kid himself than ever.

“What kinda kid?” Dick asked, wanting to feel better about this situation, but still feeling like something was off. Jason shifted to his other foot, and Barbara and Tim sat together watching in awe. Damian looked to them, to Jason, and then back to the pair. Tim watched the gears turn in his head.

“A kid like you. A kid like me,” Jason frowned, taking a pause. He gestured over his shoulder, “A kid like _him_.” He added. It was then the two men had something click. What did the first three Robins have in common? You didn’t have to be the world’s greatest detective to figure that one out.

“What did you do.” Dick gritted out through his teeth, face losing all color. “Please don’t tell me.. Jay, what. Did. You. Do?” He asked, getting louder.

Jason put his hands up in exasperation. “Not like I had a choice! He was dying!” Jason explained, his voice raising a little. He sounded almost desperate.

“Do you have a kid?” Dick snapped, and Jason let his arms drop to his sides. He let them hang there, challenging Dick with a glare.

“I do now.” He muttered, and Dick’s jaw went slack with disbelief. Tim glanced down at Barbara, whose face was carefully blank. He knew she was willing Dick not to explode. And Dick, especially concerning his family, had never been good with concealing his emotions. His face went from shock, to disbelief, to anger, to who knew what. But Tim saw bright as day the defeat in his eyes. The replaying of all of their past fights, arguments, disagreements. Dick had his younger brother right in front of him, asking for him, and this fragile peace between them could shatter in an instant. 

Not even Damian said anything. Damian glanced to Dick, waiting for the older man to say something. Because frankly, whatever he said next could result in either laughs or bloodshed.

Dick took another step forward. “Can I… can I meet him? Is he here?” Dick asked, his face softening. There was so much sadness and desperation in his eyes. He was trying to make things right. Wanted Jason to let him make things right. No one else was in the room. Just the first Robin and the second.

“Yeah,” Jason’s throat had gone dry. “He’s… he’s here.” Jason choked, and though he wasn’t showing it he was just as emotional as Dick was. The first Robin and the second Robin didn't get along as well as someone might have thought. Dick was an absentee brother, and Jason needed him, _loved him_ before he died. This was Dick trying to make amends without clueing Jason in. Jason didn't move from where he was leaning against the counter, so Dick didn't move either. When Jason saw the confusion flash in the older’s eyes, he pursed his lips.

“Where’s Bruce?”

Realization was clear as day on his face. Dick was only the first obstacle. Dick was easier. And honestly both Tim _and_ Barbara were relieved it went the way it did. Jason was lucky he could use Dick’s love for him to his advantage. If Dick said no, the likelihood of Bruce saying no practically skyrocketed.

Damian glanced toward Dick, of whom he was nearly eye level with. “Shall I go retrieve Father?” He asked, and Dick visibly faltered. Looked as if he just had the lights knocked out of him. He nodded grimly after another pause of silence. After Damian had left, he turned to look at Jason again.

“Do you have any idea what you’re going to say?” Dick asked, and Jason shook his head.

“Not a damn clue,” Jason sighed, and shook his head. “What am I supposed to say? Hey Bruce, I made the same dumbass decision you made all those years ago, think you can let me back into this batshit crazy family because of it?” Jason tightened his grip on the edge of the counter until his knuckles turned white. “No fucking clue Big Bird.” Jason added, and Dick shook his head. For the first time since he walked in, he turned to Barbara and Tim.

“This is insane,” Dick frowned, looking for their agreement. “You are _insane_ for this, Jay.” Dick finished, and he ran his hands through his hair nervously, hooking a chair with his foot and seating himself next to Barbara, head in his hands.

They waited in silence until Batman and Robin returned.

“Jason. What is the meaning of this? Damian refused to tell me.” Bruce asked suddenly, stomping up the steps hurriedly, and Jason froze entirely. He’d been expecting it, bracing himself for this, but he was terrified. Because he wanted it to work. 

“I…” Jason’s voice caught in his throat, and looked away from the crowd of Batchildren that had gathered, waiting with anticipation to see what would happen. And Jason did not want this to go the bad way. Bruce raised a brow.

“I have a kid. That’s it.” Jason blurted, and Tim felt his jaw drop. Might as well drop the bomb, why don’t you? Might be easier for this whole thing not to pull punches, huh?

Although it _was_ hilarious to see Bruce so taken off guard. If he had been drinking water, he probably would have choked on it. And it’s hard to surprise someone like Batman, but Jason’s just done it.

“What do you mean?” Bruce asked, his voice quiet. Batman had no tells. But in this case, the fact that he had no tells _was_ his tell. Jason swallowed, but kept his eyes locked on Bruce’s. 

“I mean that I adopted. A kid. An orphan.” Jason choked, and Bruce looked as if he were grinding his teeth together. But Bruce did him the favor of replying, which was even more surprising.

“Why?” Bruce asked, and Jason could cry. Wouldn't, but the dark pit of pain he felt in his stomach wanted him to. Jason raised his hand slowly, arm bent at his elbow. 

“He’s smart,” Jason raised his pointer finger of his extended hand, “strong,” he raised his middle finger, “and was one step closer into becoming a nightmare for everyone here.” Jason said, raising his ring finger before letting his hand fall to the side. He paused, and then punched his index finger into his chest. “A nightmare like me.” Jason growled through clenched teeth, and Bruce was the one to look away first. He opened his mouth to respond. “Don’t say it.” Jason barked, and the crowd watching jumped when Jason yelled. That was the first time that night Jason showed any sign of his getting angry. Bruce took a breath in, took a breath out. Rethought what he was going to say next.

“Is Alfred giving him a tour?” Bruce asked. Jason gave him a slow nod. The crowd jumped when Bruce turned to them.

“Have you met him?” Bruce asked. Barbara and Tim nodded slowly. They were all being cautious. All six of them seemed to be holding their breaths, waiting for Bruce to give any sort of indication. Bruce turned to Jason, who met his eye carefully. Bruce stepped forward, and Jason tried not to flinch. Jason was the only one that rivaled Bruce in height. Bruce laid a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you.” Bruce whispered. Jason did flinch then.

Bruce removed his hand, feeling as if he’d crossed a line.

“I’ll help you with the kid,” Bruce finally said, louder so the gang of kids behind him could hear. “But I think you already know what I’m going to say you have to do.” Bruce said, and Jason’s lips pressed together in a fine line. 

“Fine. Done.” Jason muttered, and Tim had a feeling he was dreaming. He glanced at Barbara, who had the biggest grin on her face. Dick’s jaw looked like it had unhinged, and Tim swore he’d never seen so much surprise from Damian before. Bruce turned to them, and they very quickly hid their faces.

“All of you, living room.” He turned toward the room, hands folded behind his back. “Jason, would you please go get your son?”

\--

“How long has he had him?” Bruce asked them once they all filled in, taking seats on the couches and armchairs. Tim had curled up in an armchair, knees drawn to his chest, and Dick was shoulder to shoulder with Barbara on the couch while Damian sat as close as he could to the armrest on Dick’s other side. They were all still trying to overcome their shock about what just happened. 

Bruce sat in the armchair next to Tim and rested his head on his arm. Tim cleared his throat. “He said he’s had him for a month, but has known him longer. Picked him up off of Crime Alley.”

“How old?”

“Eight.”

“What does he know?”

“Everything.”

“Did Jason tell him?”

“No, he said he figured it out on his own.” Tim wrinkled his nose. “He was very nonchalant about it.” Tim added, and Bruce gave no indication of anything he felt. Dick’s right leg was bouncing feverently, a nervous habit he had picked up recently. Bruce groaned suddenly and pressed his palms into his eyes, leaning back in his seat.

“Jason with a kid...” He sighed, and Tim shrugged. “Is the kid at least nice?”

“Seems like it. He seems to be very intelligent,” Tim tried to explain, and as Bruce continued to stare Tim shrugged again, smiling a little. “You’ll have to meet him yourself.”

\--

“He’s not mad?” Nathan asked, tugging on Jason’s sweatshirt sleeve. Jason shook his head.

“No. They want to meet you.”

“Batman wants to meet me?”

“He’s Mr. _Wayne_ to you. Don’t f-” Jason glanced at Alfred who was watching him with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t call him Batman.” Jason fixed, and Nathaniel nodded.

“You’re also meeting Dick Grayson and Damian Wayne. The two you met earlier were Barbara and Tim, alright?”

“Yes,” Nathaniel smiled, bouncing up and down. He threaded his hand with Jason’s. “Are they going to teach me how to fight?” He asked. Jason snorted.

“No. _I’m_ teaching you how to fight. Alfred is going to make sure you do your homework while I’m out.” Jason said, and Nathaniel groaned.

“Do I really have to go to school?” Nathaniel asked, and Jason nodded.

“Of course you do,” Jason said, and Alfred nodded when Nathaniel turned to him in open-mouthed shock. “And that’s non-negotiable.” Jason added sternly. Nathaniel rolled his eyes. The three of them soon neared the living room, and Jason squeezed Nathaniel’s hand. Nathaniel squeezed back.

Jason wasn’t ever going to admit it other than to Nathaniel, but the kid very quickly became his whole world in a matter of minutes. Jason hated it: hated that he suddenly understood what Bruce felt. Jason was depressed, insane, he had killed people, he had a lot of friends die… Jason was _not_ in a good way. And Jason didn’t have much reason other than to feel an obligation to keep people safe to stick around. Not that he necessarily wanted to die again--been there done that--but that was beside the point. Jason loved Nate. Nate was his reason to get up in the morning, to continue doing the things he does. And yeah, it could have been any other kid. But Nate’s natural talent and charm was inarguable--it definitely helped to plead his case.

And unlike Jason, Nate felt no real anxiety walking into that room. He had all 14 eyes trained on him, and yet he felt nothing. Confidence Jason wanted to believe he had in front of these people, but didn’t. Jason shoved his other hand in his pocket while his other hand stayed in Nate’s. Nathaniel cleared his throat.

“Hello. My name is Nathaniel Todd, it’s nice to meet you all.” Nathaniel said, and Jason held his breath. Bruce smiled, and leaned forward in his chair. He wasn’t Bruce Wayne, exactly, but it was different. He was acting himself, but in a way they’ve never seen him before. 

“I’m Bruce Wayne. It’s a pleasure to meet you, too. You’ve already met Tim and Barbara. This is Dick and Damian.”

Nathaniel bowed forward with a smile. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

“Have you been with Jason for long?” Bruce asked, and Nathaniel nodded.

“He was helping me when I was on the streets. I’ve known him for a few years.” Nathaniel replied.

“And you know who he is?”

“Of course,” Nathaniel nodded again. “He is the Red Hood. He controls the crime in Crime Alley. The rest of the Bats control what’s left of Gotham, but Crime Alley has the highest rate on average of crimes and things like that.”

“Do you know who I am?” Bruce asked, and Dick’s leg stopped bouncing.

Nathaniel glanced at Jason. “You are the Batman. And if I’m to guess he’s Drake, he’s Nightwing, and he’s Robin. She is most likely Batgirl.” Nathaniel said, now bouncing on his feet. He put his weight to his toes, to his heels, and then back to his toes. 

“And… how were you able to deduce all of that?”

“All of the Bats are connected. And all of the Bats, no matter who they are, somehow have their hands on various types of weapons and armor, which I’d have to guess is expensive. A bataring sold on the street goes for twenty-five bucks, for example, right now. So not only do they have to be rich, they also have to be strong. I’ve seen you in magazines Mr. Wayne. I’ve never seen a man put on as much muscle as you have, sir. And all of your sons are just as strong. One of them is the co-CEO of your business, which also demonstrates intelligence. Another is said to have had a circus background, and someone of the same height frequents flipping and doing tricks out at night. And because the Bats only keep an eye on Gotham particularly, that narrows it down to only be a family in Gotham. 

“If someone tries to pinpoint Batman, he has to be located or connected to Gotham somehow, he has to be rich, has to have surrounded himself with smart people, and has to ensure that everyone he is connected to is strong enough to be able to defend themselves with minimal weapons. The only family I see fitting that description is yours, Mr. Wayne.” Nathaniel rambled, and suddenly Barbara and Tim noticed something else about this kid. He’s Dick, he’s Jason, he’s Tim… but he was also Damian. Damian in the way that he was so upfront that it was frightening. Whoever this was, this was not a normal kid.

Dick was grinning like an idiot, and Bruce looked like he’d seen a ghost. His worst nightmare. “Where did you find this kid again, Jason?”


	3. Miscalculation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim goes back to the cave to act as Oracle.

Tim hurted.

He stretched, letting his arms hit the headboard behind him. All of the bones in his body ached from last night. He reached to his right and snatched his phone from the nightstand. It was already 10 in the morning. Late for him. Kon stirred to his left, groaning. His eyes lit up when he spotted Tim.

“Sleep well?” Kon asked, pushing himself up to rest on his elbows. Tim’s nodding, agreeing as he went through his various emails and messages. He hurted like hell, but he wasn't going to tell Kon that.

“Seven hours of sleep,” Tim grinned. “That’s a new record for this month.” Tim added, and Kon chuckled. 

“So,” Kon sighed. “Are you staying home?” He asked. He wouldn’t even look at him. As if he knew the answer was going to be no. Tim threw his phone to the side and reached over to trace an absent hand down the center of Kon’s back. 

“My day is yours,” Tim said, and Kon looked at him in shock. “But-- I’ll be gone for the rest of the night.” He admitted, and Kon slouched. It was something though, so he got up anyway. “I’ll call you if anything changes.”

“I’m going to go make breakfast.” Kon finally said, and with that he was out of the room. Tim sat up and threw his head back against the headboard. He had other things on his mind last night while he was still awake. He’d already decided he would go along with what Bruce said, and follow up with him later.

He knew Bruce was right: Gotham was always going to be a neverending hell. There was no changing that, and it wasn’t his fault. And he knew things were getting difficult; _tight_. Pretty soon there wasn’t going to be two Oracles anymore. And someone would have to pick up the extra slack in the meanwhile.

So he decided he would visit every now and then. _Visit._ He’d spend some of his nights in Gotham, most of his day in the Hall of Justice or sleeping, and other nights also at the Hall of Justice or sleeping. And then freetime for Kon. 

Right.

\--

“You look well rested today. Did you do as I suggested?”

“Yeah,” Tim replied, taking a sip of his coffee. “Seven hours.” Tim grinned, and Bruce grunted, leaning back in his seat at the Batcomputer. Tim glanced it over. Truth be told, he hadn’t been in the cave for awhile. The computer at the Hall of Justice may have been nice, but the Batcomputer was truly something else. And Tim knew it like the back of his hand.

“So you’re going to be here a few days a week. Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday?¨

“Yeah. Barbara’s thrilled.” Tim replied, and Bruce’s lips pressed together in a frown at the mention of the name. Tim shouldn’t press him like this, so obviously too, but he was. Oracle pushing to retire was a big deal. Because Oracle retiring only meant that someone else would be right behind, having been convinced to retire with her. That’s two more people who were no longer protecting Gotham, two important spots to fill.

“Jason and Nathaniel haven’t been here in awhile. They may stop by tonight.” Bruce said, getting out of his seat. Tim watched as he grabbed his cowl. He shoved his hands into his sweatpant pockets, and watched as Batman made his way out of the cave on the Batmobile. Damian and Dick were already out on patrol. Now, Tim was alone.

Alone in the Batcave again, for hours to come. 

Tim had a feeling he was going to regret this. As much as he loved being in Gotham, this was another thing he had piled on top of himself. The workload only increased. The probability of him getting all of it done was low, and drastically decreasing. He could forget about freetime. Anything and everything he could physically do, he would do. And that was just how things were going to have to be.

But a part of Tim was relieved that Bruce’s hunch was right. He could hear Jason and Nathaniel before they even made it into the cave. If Nathaniel didn’t have Jason’s accent then, he had it down now. Tim could hear them chattering away about nothing in particular, and suddenly he realized how out of his element he was here. He knew the Justice League regulars, those that were in and out, those who came around every now and then, but Tim has not been in the Batcave as acting Oracle for years. And he didn't know how Jason worked anymore.

“Hey Tim, that you?” Jason asked as they closed in on him. Tim glanced over to acknowledge them and ended up doing a double take. Jason in civvies and Nathaniel… in Jason’s gear. Admittedly, it was getting harder to tell them apart. Nathaniel was Dick’s height, but had Jason’s shoulders. He wasn't as buff as Damian and Bruce were, but he had some mass to him. Certainly more mass than Tim had. He had tanner skin and bright blue eyes. His hair was dark brown; not black like the rest of the Bats’. But he was wearing Jason’s gear.

“Yeah, uh-- what’s going on?” Tim asked, swiveling in his seat. Jason slapped Nathaniel on the back so hard he almost sent the kid flying forward. 

“He’s taking over my patrol tonight.”

“And why is that?” Tim asked, unable to stop his relentless curiosity even now. Despite himself, he took a hefty swig of the coffee to his left. 

“‘Cause he’s ready for it. He’s seventeen, he should be able to pull his weight.” Jason explained. And Tim may not have been around a lot while Nathaniel was growing up, but he knew what Jason was saying was true. And he also knew not only did Nathaniel get trained as Robin, but he got trained the same way Jason got trained all of those years ago when he came back. Tim had no doubt that Nathaniel would be fine tonight.

“Does Bruce know?”

“Eh, it’s not any of his business. And besides, the kid looks like me so I doubt he’ll notice.” Jason grinned, and Nathaniel rolled his eyes. Jason was old enough to be the kid’s father, and yet Tim didn't think he had aged a bit. Jason was the first to go gray, out of everyone. He and Bruce both became silver-foxes around the same time. But Jason was still in shape. He still had a clean shaven face and greasy hair that always looked perfect. The only other tell of age other than his hair was the wrinkle in the corner of his mouth, but Tim had always found his dimples cute. Jason was looking at him like he was expecting him to say something.

“10% chance.” Tim glowered, and Jason’s smile went even wider than before. “Is this his first time?”

“Sure is,” Jason responded, tossing Nathaniel the helmet he had under the crook of his arm. “He’s just going to be doing my normal patrol route. Nothing fancy. Any _case_ out there is mine,” He glanced over to Nathaniel. “Right?” 

“Yessir.” Nathaniel sighed, grinning with another roll of his eyes. “Can I go now?”

“Don’t try anything funny, huh?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” Was the response that echoed through the cave as Nathaniel sprinted out of it. Dick had his flips, and Nathaniel apparently had his running. 

And suddenly for the first time in years, Tim Drake was alone with Jason Todd.

“Have you taken him out before?” Tim asked, in an attempt to start a conversation. He shouldn’t be procrastinating on the work he brought with him to the cave from W.E, but Nathaniel was more of a prerogative right now, trained or not.

“Oh sure, yeah. This is his first time out _alone_.” Jason explained. He moved to hover from above where Tim was sitting. Tim could sense his hand resting on the top of the chair, just by Tim’s left shoulder. _Tap, Tap, Tap_. Tim expanded the tab that had their security feeds.

“He seems pretty excited.” Tim chuckled, pulling up a camera showing him flipping through the air, and Jason nodded.

“I figured it was about time. He’s been dying to go out alone for years. But now that he can handle himself out there, every now and then this is… fine.” Jason stated. Tim glanced up over his shoulder and looked at him sideways.

“Didn’t take you as someone who would still be so protective.” Tim said, voice full of mockery. Jason scoffed.

“Can it, princess,” Jason muttered. “‘Forgot how annoying you are.” He added under his breath, and Tim chuckled.

“And you’re probably as much of an ass as you were before.”

“Can’t deny that one. _Princess_.” Jason seethed again, but Tim could hear the laughter in his voice. Bickering with Jason was exciting, and something he had not done in a while. A part of him misses the arguments--the _banter_. The patrols Bruce used to force them to go on together. The late nights together. Jason hooked a chair with his foot, and sat down on Tim’s left. He cleared his throat. “How has working at the Justice League been? Everything you hoped for and more?” Jason asked, with just as much mockery as Tim used seconds before.

“Very funny. And no,” Tim replied honestly. “It’s the same thing I’m doing right now, but for eighty people instead of seven.” 

“Sounds fun,” Jason said dryly, and Tim shrugged a shoulder. “Bossing people around who could easily be the life or death of thousands of people, nice.” Jason continued, and Tim rolled his eyes.

“So glad we’re on the same page.” Tim murmured under his breath, and Jason chuckled, getting up out of his seat. 

“You want more coffee?” He asked, and Tim looked up at him, pulling a knee into his chest.

“Sure,” He breathed. “Thanks.”

Okay, he had no idea how Jason worked anymore.

Tim knew more than anyone that Jason was a nice guy at heart. He may look scary, he may still be operating as a damn crime lord, but Jason was a good guy. For him to still be this nice to Tim in particular--he felt like he was dreaming. It was like they were back to how things were before.

Tim blinked as Jason came back into focus, pressing a steaming mug into his hands. His hands were dark as they brushed against his. His skin was littered with various scars and was golden-brown from the sun. Tim’s hands looked smooth and paper-white next to his, the scars long faded away. Tim thought better than to question Jason on his niceness. He might as well just take it for what it was.

“Is Nathaniel still going to school?” Tim asked as he switched to a different security cam. He watched as Nathaniel decked a guy in his face, and kicked a gun out of the hands of another.

“Sure is. He’s leaving for college at the end of the year.” Jason said, and Tim turned to see him smiling like an idiot. 

“Really? That’s great.” Tim said, turning back around. He suddenly felt guilty. He wished he’d been around more to watch Nathaniel grow up. 

“Kid wanted to be an _ER doctor._ Can’t say I saw that one coming, but hey, I’m not complaining.” Jason finished, crossing his arms and throwing his feet to the counter. Tim almost flinched, but caught himself. He wasn’t used to this close of proximity to Jason anymore. And that fact hit him hard.

“We’ll finally have someone that can really stitch people up correctly.” Tim said, and Jason laughed. Of course they all knew the basics: any Bat could sew stitches, set a broken bone, transfuse blood, etc. But having an actual medical professional? It wouldn’t hurt. The person who used to tend to that sort of thing had since passed away. Peacefully from old age.

“ _Sorry_ that my hands were shaking so bad that night. That’s what hallucinogens _do_.” Jason defended himself, and Tim giggled.

“Pretty sure I still have the scar.” Tim added, and Jason groaned, throwing his head back. 

“Oh my fucking _God_.” Jason cursed, and Tim put his mug down with a satisfying clink. There was a second of pause.

“He’s doing well.” Tim complimented. Jason nodded with a shrug.

“Of course he is,” He said with a flip of his hand. “He’s careful. He won’t jump into any business he can’t handle.” Jason was silent after a while, and Tim glanced to the side to find Jason staring at him. Any cheery mood he was in seconds ago had vanished. Tim’s smile faded and he returned Jason’s glare. Tim waited for Jason to say something. 

“What happened last night?” Jason asked. Tim’s eyes went wide. He raised an eyebrow. 

“What are you talking about?” Tim asked, narrowing his eyes and turning back to the computer.

“I’m talking about you getting so drunk you could barely _stand_. What was that about?”

“It’s called I got a little _carried away_. It was nothing. I’m fine now,” Tim’s brow furrowed. “Why do you even care?” He asked, and crossed his one leg over the other. Jason’s leg was less than an elbow’s length away from where Tim was sitting, resting right beside the keyboard. 

“Because you’re not the type of person to get carried away, Tim,” Jason was raising his voice. “You’re the type of person who has a reason for _everything._ So tell me why you decided to get piss-drunk at the gala. On _champagne_.” Jason growled. “That isn’t like you.”

“You don’t know me.” Tim countered.

Jason narrowed his eyes. “I _know_ that you never used to drink _back then_. So what changed, huh? What’s different now that you decide you want to get drunk in front of people you haven’t had a proper conversation with in _months_ , huh? Dick wanted to talk to you, and you brushed him off the entire night. The Tim _I know_ wouldn’t do that.” Jason shouted, and this time Tim turned to glare at him, guilt flushing on the back of his neck.

“I’m not perfect Jason,” Tim bristled. “I’m sorry I _miscalculated_.” 

“You’re not listening to me.” Jason said, kicking his feet down from the table. He leaned in closer. “If something is bothering you, you need to say it. I heard what you said to Bruce last night.” 

“It’s none of your business. It’s my problem, not yours.” Tim snapped, turning to look back at the computer. But that only made Jason more upset.

“This is what I’m talking about! You have people who care about you and you just fucking ignore them, Tim! You’ve been working non-stop for six years. Don’t you need a goddamn break?” Jason asked, his voice turning soft.

“I don’t remember you _ever_ caring about me.” Tim replied tightly.

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” Jason changed the subject. “When was the last time you had a day off?” Jason asked. Tim took a second to reply.

“Today.” Tim decided, keeping his eyes focused on the screen. Jason was unconvinced.

“Doesn’t count. You’re working right now.”

Tim narrowed his eyes, and picked up his mug. “Fine, then. Two years ago, I guess. I broke my arm and was on leave.” Tim replied. Jason fell back in his chair with an exasperated sigh.

“No wonder you were shit-faced, you’re strung as tight as a wire, aren’t you, _princess_? All that work for the Justice League getting to you?” Jason asked, a smile pulling at the edge of his lips in a tease. Tim turned to face him and dropped his hands into his lap. He had no idea how to reply to that. 

“How ‘bout this: I’m going to take you out to lunch, and I’m going to make _sure_ you get a day off.” Jason finally decided. Tim scoffed.

“ _What_?”

“Apparently not even _Drake_ can figure out how to schedule a sick day. Christ, Tim. I’m trying to help you here.” Jason said.

“Maybe I don’t want your help,” Tim said. “Listen, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but just me _being here_ is putting me days’ behind on things I need to do. I can’t just _stop_ working.” Tim tried to explain. 

“You’re ridiculous.” Jason sighed, taking a sip of his own coffee. “It seems like nothing’s changed.” He muttered, finally. Tim pulled his other knee into his chest.

“So sorry to disappoint.” Tim finally said, fuming in his seat. He didn’t come over here to argue. Especially not with Jason. In fact, he hadn’t even considered the chances of that happening. There was always a small change for the spontaneous, but this? It was too much.

“I’m not trying to rustle your _damn_ feathers.” Jason finally said, which Tim knew was as much as of an apology he was ever going to get for this. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. Alright? Can you see where I’m coming from, here?”

Tim had the inclination to say, _“No, not really,”_ but he couldn’t bring himself to. Jason was staring at him. Had his hand resting on the arm of his chair. Tim could smell the gunpowder and could taste his cologne. He inhaled. Exhaled. He looked away with a small nod.

“Okay, you’re right.” Tim spat, his eyes narrowed.

“‘Course I am. It’s the goddamn fatherly instinct I have.” Jason smiled, and Tim chuckled. He let his shoulders hang. He was so tense. He’s thankful for this conversation change.

“He should be on his way back now, hm?” Tim asked, and Jason nodded.

“Yeah, he should be finishing up. A nice quiet night for his first time. At least he got to beat _someone_ up.” Jason sighed. Tim tensed as Jason got up out of his seat and laid his hand back over the top of Tim’s chair. Tim felt a shiver go down his spine as Jason tapped his fingers again. He always did this when he was thinking. That was _one_ thing that had remained the same, Tim noted.

“Did you guys have dinner already?” Tim asked before Jason could bring up something else controversial. Jason’s fingers stopped tapping by his left ear.

“Yeah, I made him something that I _thought_ would last him a few hours ago. Knowing him he’ll want to grab leftovers from over here, though. Always a sucker for Dick’s cooking, and still _always_ hungry.” Jason muttered. 

“Do you still make that casserole?” Tim breathed suddenly, and Jason’s fingers tapped again briefly before he removed his hand entirely. He turned and leaned against the desk, his arms crossed.

“Uh-huh,” He studied Tim, who was pretending not to notice his stare. “I should make it for you again sometime.” Jason suggested, his face blank.

“Yes, you should,” Tim agreed, trying to make this sound less than it was turning out to be. “That one was one of my favorites.” He admitted, turning to face Jason as he shut off the surveillance cams tracking Nathaniel. He was in the driveway.

Jason said nothing.

“Hey Dad, I’m back!” Nathaniel finally shouted. The staring contest ended, and Jason turned to his son who was very quickly making his way over to them. 

“Hey Nate, how’d it go?” Jason asked, clapping his hands together as he boosted himself off of the desk. Tim swiveled around in his chair.

“Awesome. _Freedom_.” Nathaniel emphasized, undoing the latch at the back of the helmet and pulling it off of his head. He took a gloved hand through his sweaty hair. That was definitely something he got from Jason.

“From what we could see you did very well. Stuck to the correct patrol route, and effectively got rid of the crime. Well done.” Tim said. Nathaniel grinned and tossed the helmet at Jason. 

“Thanks, Tim,” He leaned backward and stretched out a pull in his back. “Guess I should go hit the showers, huh?” Nathaniel asked, nearing closer to his father and Tim. Jason frowned and pinched his nose.

“Yeah man, you stink.” Jason shooed him away with a free hand. “Beat it.” He said, and Nathaniel laughed, ignoring him, and shedded himself of weapons, turning to the side to put them on a table.

“I know I smell like hell but I haven’t seen you in awhile, Tim,” Nathaniel said over his shoulder as he emptied smoke bombs from his pockets. “How are ya?” Tim didn’t look at Jason and Jason didn’t look at Tim.

“I'm good, kid. I heard from your father you’re going to college?” Tim asked. Nathaniel turned around and shedded his jacket, smiling wide.

“Yup! I figured why help people only at night, and not during the day, you know?” Nathaniel said, and Tim nodded. He definitely understood that. “And hey, I’m learning something valuable, too.”

“That’s awesome, Nathaniel.” Tim returned the smile.

“I already have practice on Dad, so at least all my stitches won’t turn out crappy, huh? And that’s thanks to you, too.” He said, and Tim couldn’t help but laugh at the memory.

“You’ll be the first one I turn to, need be.” Tim promised, and Jason went to the side to retrieve some of the weapons.

“Alright Nate, that’s enough chit chat. You have school in a few hours.” Jason commanded, and with a roll of his eyes Nathaniel bid his farewell.

“Okay _Dad_.” Nathaniel mocked with a grin, and Jason groaned, making a show out of it as he threw his head back and pressed his palms to his eyes.

“You’re gonna be the end of me, kid!” Jason shouted after him, but Nathaniel had already retreated around the corner. Tim flashed Jason a smile once he dropped his hands.

“He’s still a cute kid.” Tim giggled, and Jason turned around with a flourish as he threw Nathaniel’s jacket over his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. How much longer are you going to be hanging around here?”

“For the rest of the night. Everyone else is still out patrolling.” Tim replied. He glanced at the coffee mug that had grown cold. Jason blinked once. Twice.

“Is this going to be an everyday thing? You… coming back here?” Jason asked carefully. Tim kept perfectly still.

“Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays.” Tim replied. Jason chuckled, his smile only stretching to his right cheek.

“How the hell did Bruce convince you to do that?” Jason asked, making his way back to the desk. He closed in on Tim, who raised his head to meet his eye.

“My guess is Babs,” Tim replied. “You know she’s on his ass about everything.” Tim sighed, and Jason nodded. He knew.

“Well, it’ll be nice to have you back for a while. And who knows, maybe Bruce’ll throw you out on patrol one day maybe.” Jason laughed as he made his way to the showers.

“Maybe.” Tim agreed to his back, and Jason disappeared to go retrieve his son.

\-- 

“I know, baby. I’ll be back tomorrow, you know that. My nights are going to be off on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays. I’ll be all yours.” Tim whispered into his phone. He was staying in his old room in Wayne Manor instead of trying to drive home. Bruce wouldn’t have it if he was driving. It would be more of an excuse to stay awake, and Bruce could keep an eye on him if he stayed home. And what sucked was it was only Tim he was doing this to. “ _You need your sleep_.” Bruce had said, and so here Tim was in his room in Wayne Manor, probably going to stay awake for another three hours anyway.

“But I want you here _now_. I’d rather have you still working as much as you do out here and still in my bed.” Kon argued. He sounded really tired. Tim tried not to get offended. “Now I can’t see you.”

“It’s better this way. They need me over here Kon, I can’t help that. The more I help the less people die,” Tim felt like he didn’t need to explain this, but apparently he did. “Kon, this is what we do for a living.”

“Tim, _Superman_ has more off hours than you do.”

“Kon, I’m a human. I’m not a super-powered Kryptonian who can _hear_ when things go wrong.” Tim muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

“But I. Don’t. See. You.” Kon growled. “I never see you anymore.” Kon was about to lose this argument.

“I already told you. Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays. Tomorrow is Sunday, and I’ll be all yours. I’ll even take you out to dinner and pay, Kon. You just need to work with me here.”

“ _Working with you_ is what I’ve been doing for the past five years!” Kon shouted, and Tim had to pull his phone away from his ear to not blow out his eardrum. He sat up straight in his bed, suddenly wide awake.

“Kon, this is what we signed up for. You know this. We get rid of the bad for _a living_. And guess who funds all of it! Me! Who works for Wayne Enterprises and funds Batman because no one else can? Me! Do I need to go even further and ask who you think funds the Justice League?” Tim glanced to his bedroom door and lowered his voice. “You may be out on the frontlines keeping everyone safe, but who’s behind the scenes keeping _you_ safe?” Tim asked. There’s silence on the line, suddenly.

Tim could hear Kon’s sigh through the phone.

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow night. I love you.” Kon said. Tim could scream. Not only was he mad about Kon backing out of this conversation, it was because they’ve danced this tango before and Tim felt as if he knew how it was going to end.

“I love you too.” Tim said, doing his best to keep his voice steady.

“Bye.”

Tim hung up without hesitation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For other JayTim like-minded people, feel free to join the JayTim discord located in the link on my profile. Have a great day!!


	4. Back in Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now. Tim gets used to his new life back at the cave.

“That was a surprise.”

“Whaddya mean?” Jason asked, narrowing his eyes. He threw Nathaniel his bag of clothing, which consisted of sweatpants and a graphic T-shirt. Nathaniel shook out his hair, spraying Jason with water. Jason rolled his eyes. “ _Nate_.”

“We don’t see Tim for months and then suddenly we see him two days in a row.” Nathaniel paused to peek out from the divider. “What happened?”

“Bruce got on his ass and now the little bird’s returned to the cave for a little while.”

“How long?” Nathaniel asked, stepping out from the divider after shoving on his pants.

“No idea how long.” Jason replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. Nate looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. Jason hated how the kid could read him like the back of his hand.

“What did you do?” Nathaniel asked, not buying his father’s act even a little bit. Jason threw his head against the back of the wall.

“Would it surprise you if I told you we already argued?”

“And why does that sound familiar?” Nathaniel quipped, and Jason muttered something under his breath. “Maybe it’s a good thing you two are arguing again. Shows you things haven’t changed.”

Jason crossed one leg over the other and sucked in a cheek. “I haven’t had a conversation with Tim in years.”

“Maybe now you’ll have plenty more.” Nathaniel said, turning to the mirror to fix his hair. Jason was positively bristling at that point.

“And why would I want that?” Jason muttered. Nathan gave him a look, and dropped his hands to his sides.

“Because you’re _friends_.” Nathaniel looked his father up and down. “I’m going up to get whatever they had for dinner, want anything?”

“Nah, but be quick. You’ll be running on only three hours of sleep.” Jason muttered. Nathaniel pat his Dad on the shoulder as he passed him through the entrance.

“I know. Have the car running, I’ll be out there in a second.” Nathaniel said, and suddenly Jason was alone. 

Jason glanced toward the direction of the Batcave, where he could hear the coffee machine brewing. Distantly, the sound was calming. It was familiar. But Jason also disapproved of caffeine. Namely, the amount of it. But he was never really a coffee guy, either. 

He turned to his other side and headed off toward the Manor’s garage.

\--

Tim was delirious the next morning.

He had a little over a 2 hour drive waiting for him to get to the Hall of Justice, and he hadn’t slept a wink. He stayed up all night working on the work he’d meant to get done without Jason’s distraction, and his argument with Kon had been bothering him. 

But Tim knew that _he_ was right, not Kon.

He and Damian were currently standing in silence. Tim was dressed in his typical Hall of Justice gear. It’s nicer than sweatpants, but since he wasn't out on the field anymore he also didn't have a real reason to be in his Drake gear. He, of course, still wore the mask. Tim stood directly in front of the coffee machine, watching patiently as it did its magic. Damian, on the other hand, was making breakfast. Tim thought he had seen him add _eight_ eggs, plus bacon, but decided that he was still out of it. Damian was Bruce’s height now, he was practically the same size as him. The only physical alterations he had were his skin color and his mother’s eyes. Other than that, he was the spitting image of a much younger Bruce.

“Dami! Your hunch was right!” Tim heard Dick’s voice, shouting and cheery from all the way down the hallway. Tim curiously glanced at Damian, who froze. “You’re right, he _does_ have a girlfriend!” Dick shouted, and he paused once he made his way inside the kitchen.

Damian sighed and let his head hang. Dick clapped a hand over his mouth. Not only did Tim forget about Dick being loud in the morning, he forgot about the gossip. And now that he was home, he was hungry for it.

“Tim, forget what you just hea--” Dick blurted, but Damian was quick to cut him off. Dick must have forgotten that Tim had stayed overnight. 

“Grayson, if he doesn’t know already he’s only going to look into it.” Damian muttered, back to working on his eggs. “You might as well tell him.” Damian mumbled, refusing to look at Tim. Dick sighed in defeat, passing behind Damian to grab plates from their cabinets. Tim realized Damian wasn’t just making eggs for himself.

“Who has a girlfriend?” Tim pressed. He had to leave as soon as his coffee finished brewing.

“We think Nathan does. Can you imagine?” Dick smiled, voice raising an octave in his excitement. For some reason, Tim was relieved.

“My guess is you already know. Does he have one?” Tim asked. Dick boosted himself up to sit on the counter. He locked his ankles together and swung them back and forth.

“She is 5’8 and gorgeous. Currently leading as the valedictorian of Gotham High. Looking to go into medicine in college.” Damian listed, and Tim raised a brow. Dick turned his head to the side.

“Does she have a _name_?”

“Jessica Monaghan. She does crew so she’s got some muscle to her. She’s involved in a bunch of clubs, too.” Dick added. 

“It sounds like she’s the whole package.” Tim said as the coffee machine dinged. He watched as Damian dished out the eggs and bacon he’d been making. He handed a plate to Dick who thanked him with a smile.

“It _sounds like_ ,” Damian began, just as he used to begin an especially harsh burn when he used to argue with Tim, “she’s the making of something we need to keep our eyes on.” He pointed out. Dick frowned, and Tim said nothing as he poured the pot into his thermos. Dick swallowed hard around a piece of bacon.

“But Dami, what if she’s not?” Dick shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth. “I’d love to meet her sometime.” Dick continued, and Damian glared at his poor manners.

“ _I’d love to_ keep a closer eye on her.” Damian returned and Dick rolled his eyes pointedly.

“Always so angry when he doesn’t eat, isn’t he Tim?” Dick muttered, as Damian sat down at the bar. Tim chuckled, plucking a piece of bacon off of Dick’s plate as he left the kitchen.

“Absolutely.”

\--

Stephanie Brown was due a call. 

Tim classified that as work. He was taking a lunch break at the moment, having gotten done the most crucial things of the day, and was not about to break his habit of a monthly call with her. 

Stephanie and Cass were over in China, dealing with the aftermath of Lady Shiva. They had not been home in months, but were due to return soon enough. Dick was staying at the Manor while they were gone. He was doing patrol every night. 

Tim dialed and waited, the comm in his ear as he bit down on a sandwich he’d got from the vending machine. It was a present to himself.

He and Stephanie remained close over the years. Not for any romantic reason, though. Any hopes for that had been extinguished years ago. Before Alfred, before the Hall of Justice, and before Nathaniel. But Steph was still his best friend. After all of these years, that refused to change. And besides, she and Cass were getting closer. Tim wasn’t about to get into the middle of that.

But she was serious about staying on top of the phonecalls. 

Tim’s about to think he’d called at a wrong time, but she picked up just before the last ring.

“Tim! Hey, what’s up? Cassie and I just got back to our little base.” 

“You’d be surprised, Steph. I’m back working at the cave.” Tim replied and Steph gasped.

“No lie?” She asked. “Why?”

“Things are running tight over there. It’s only part time, but yeah, I’m back.”

“They must all love that. Have you ran into Jason?”

Tim played with the wrapper of his sandwich. “Yeah, I ran into him yesterday. We had a… conversation.” Tim finished.

“Did you now?” Steph asked and Tim rolled his eyes, crushing the wrapper into his fist.

“He called me stupid, so yes.” Tim said and Steph cackled.

“And Natey’s good? How’s everyone else?”

“We’re all fine. Where’s Cass?”

“She’s here, listening. She says hello.” Steph said. Tim could hear Cass’ little hello, and found himself smiling. “Oh, and how’s Kon? Are you two getting along, now?”

Tim forgot that the last time he had called Steph, he and Kon had argued that time, too. And that one was just as bad as last night’s. He sighed and Steph frowned.

“Don’t tell me you fought again...” Steph frowned, trailing off.

“Yeah,” Tim choked. “But we’re going to talk again tonight and work things out. I get time off now that I’m working at the cave. B’s orders.” Tim explained.

“Okay. Just know you can call me if it gets to be too much, yeah?” Steph asked him. Tim’s nodding to himself but knew Steph was listening for an answer on the other line.

“I will,” He promised. “Is the case getting any better over there for you two?” Tim wanted to change the subject. The other line was quiet for a second.

“No, yeah it is but-- hold on, Cass wants to talk to you, and then we’ve gotta head out again.” Steph relayed into the phone quickly, before Tim could hear the commotion of Steph handing the phone to Cassandra.

“Damian. He is still working on the system?” Cass asked, business as usual. It took a minute for Tim to rack his brain to figure out what she was referring to. He distantly remembered it.

“As far as I’m aware, yes. I haven’t talked to him about it though.” Tim swiveled around in his chair to face the computer and began searching for this so-called system. He’d forgotten it had existed. “You should call him.” Tim suggested.

“Thanks Tim. I will.” Tim heard Cassandra hand the phone over to Steph with no other words.

“Alright, it was great catching up, but it’s time to go.” Stephanie smiled into the phone. Tim found himself smiling back.

“Okay Steph,” Tim said. “I’ll see you.”

“See you later.”

Tim glanced at his schedule and dialed the next person he was due to talk to.

\--

“Hey handsome, are you sure you don’t want to go out for dinner?” Tim asked, opening up his front door cautiously. This was the earliest he’s been home in awhile, but he liked it. The only thing he didn’t like was the stress. Tim tried _this_ method of approaching the situation on the inside, shutting the door behind him.

The house was deathly silent, but there were numerous signs that pointed to Kon being home. Tim may have been behind his cameras and not on the field, but his detective skills only increased.

Tim ducked into the kitchen, glanced into the dining room, and he saw no one. Tim sighed and made his way upstairs, where he found the bedroom light on.

“Kon? This isn’t funny, I know you can hear me.” Tim said. Kon finally appeared in the doorway. Tim saw the coldness of a _Bat’s_ face on Kon’s, and he was not prepared for it. 

“Hey.” Kon said, and as Tim got to the top of the steps Kon took his face into his hands and kissed him. Tim didn’t fight him and kissed him back. 

“Glad I’m home early?” Tim asked as Kon ducked under his chin.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.” He said, and Tim made a noise as Kon pressed his lips to the underside of his jaw. He pulled away.

“There’s dinner downstairs. Then come back up here and we’ll make up for lost time.” Kon grinned, and Tim felt an unhealthy shiver trickle it’s way down his spine.

“What.” Tim blurted. “Aren’t we going to talk? Aren’t you mad?”

“I’m not going to _waste my time_ ,” Kon murmured. “You’re here now, so why don’t we have some fun?” Kon asked, patting his side. Tim got the feeling he was joking. He didn’t mean it. Tim looked to the ground and felt his stomach rumble. He could be working right now.

“Fine.” Tim said, and the argument from last night was over, and they would never talk about it again. He descended the stairs and opened the fridge. Tim felt sick, knowing he had been right about the outcome of their fight.

He did what he was told.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For other JayTim like-minded people, feel free to join the JayTim discord located in the link on my profile. Have a great day!!


	5. The Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now. Bruce and Damian, Barbara and Dick, Stephanie and Cass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The start of this chapter takes place before Tim returned back to his house with Kon. If that doesn’t make sense don’t worry about it. Also, even though it is tagged as Dick Grayson/Barbara Gordon, you can still read this as them being platonic even though in this story they are dating, and that goes for Stephanie & Cassandra in the opposite way.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!! :)

Damian and Cassandra got along better than one might think they would.

They didn’t have the banter, the jokes, the _romance_ \--like in some cases--but they did have the same resolve. And while they were no Tim Drake, they _were_ still of the Batfamily’s intelligence. They learned the same things Tim Drake did, but applied them in different ways.

Tim Drake would never understand what it meant to willingly kill someone. Damian and Cass knew this feeling from the start. Since they were children. And so they applied their knowledge of technology in ways Tim couldn’t fathom. And that ended up being the “system.” 

It was a meticulous little monster, which was why Tim never cared for it much, but it was effective. It took them a little over a year to develop it the whole way. They sat in silence after patrols, doing their best while the rest slept and prepared for the next day. Dick was still a cop, Tim wasn’t even at the Batcave anymore, Steph was trying her best to get through college, Jason had to get Nathaniel to school, and Bruce was being Bruce. And so that left Damian and Cass by themselves, perpetually involved with the line of justice. They had nothing else better to do with their time other than training, and so the “system” came naturally.

The two ex-assassins who wanted nothing more than to better themselves and keep people safe _clicked_.

The system was a more thorough way of organizing case files. It would be organized by date, type of crime, people involved, etc. Tons of sets and folders of cases. And though it took a while to classify each case properly, it helped substantially to connect the dots and uncover patterns.

Damian glanced up at his father who had come to stand beside him as he worked. Now that Cass wasn’t there, Damian’s devotion to the system only strengthened. And beside that, he felt poorly that he’d left it alone for so long when he went out with the Titans. He was turning into the cave’s very own Tim Drake at this rate.

“I’m very impressed with all you and Cassandra have done. I take it you’re still working through making it more efficient?” Bruce asked, glancing over his shoulder to spot Dick training on the mats not so far off. He had taken to doing much more acrobatics than he used to. He wanted to keep up his flexibility.

“Yes, father. I plan to wait for Cain’s return before I make any notable adjustments,” Damian replied. Damian glanced his father’s way and narrowed his eyes as Bruce continued to squint at the screen.

“You haven’t gotten those contacts yet.” Damian observed. Bruce grunted and blinked a handful of times.

“No, not yet,” Bruce said, pacing to Damian’s other side. Damian clicked on another case file, and hummed to himself.

“Todd wears contacts.” Damian noted, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Bruce nod. He crossed his arms and continued to hover.

“Jason didn’t tell me he needed glasses until he was thirteen.” Bruce reminisced. He turned to Damian curiously. “You don’t need glasses, do you?” 

“Father,” Damian gave him a glare. “My vision is perfect. And if I did need them, I would have gotten them already.” Damian replied briskly. He moved on to the next file. Damian soon realized his father intended to speak about something else. And he was stalling. “What do you need, Father?” Damian let his hands fall to his lap and turned to face Bruce.

“Did you see Tim last night?” 

“Yes, he was multitasking while he was here. He is very good at what he does.” Damian complimented. Which was rare when it came to Tim.

“It comes from years of practice,” Bruce commented. “But did he seem worn down to you? Like he wasn’t taking care of himself?” Bruce asked, and Damian snorted.

“When has Drake ever taken care of himself?” He asked, and Bruce shrugged his shoulders. 

“I mean worse than before. I can’t help but think he hasn’t slept for days.” 

“Then you are likely correct. It would not surprise me,” Damian’s brows furrowed. “I would have thought Kon would be getting him to sleep, though. Is he dependable, that Superman clone?” Damian asked.

Bruce narrowed his eyes. “They’ve been friends for years, but I’m not positive of his abilities. Tim can keep a secret if he wants to.” Bruce sighed, which was true. Tim had unfortunately gotten very good at hiding things from them since his departure. Bruce guessed it had something to do with all of the technology he had access to at the Hall of Justice. And he was always learning. It did _not_ take Tim long to surpass Barbara in his own way. “How did he seem this morning?” 

Damian pursed his lips, and glanced toward Dick who was hanging upside down, thirty feet in the air, doing curl ups. “He looked horrible. Worse than last night. I doubt he got any sleep.” Damian said, having no reason to lie for Tim’s sake.

“The whole point of him being forced to stay here is so he _does_ sleep.” Bruce muttered, sour. He looked down at Damian expectantly, who could feel his gaze on the back of his head.

“You think something must have happened,” Damian finished for him. “Todd was here last night. Was it him?” Damian asked hypothetically. “Or was it something he was working on while he wasn't supposed to?” Damian continued, trying to read his father’s face. Of course Bruce had a hunch, Damian just had to figure out what it was if he cared enough. However, if it involved Tim, he figured he didn’t really care.

“We’ll have to see,” Bruce said, and walked over to Dick who was hanging aimlessly. He must have figured that Bruce was planning on interrogating him, too. “How was Tim this morning and last night?” He asked. Dick swung and dropped to the ground to stand face to face with him.

“He seemed alright. Tim’s been through a lot, though.” Dick said, extending his hands in front of him and examining his calluses that had popped. “He looked half asleep this morning when we were having breakfast.”

“Tim had breakfast?” Bruce asked, and Dick shrugged.

“Not that I know of. He stole a piece of bacon off my plate.” He added. Bruce nodded but suddenly his arms crossed. Dick bit down on his lip. Tim was a distraction from what was really going on. 

“How is she?” 

“She’s fine. We’re going out to lunch today,” Dick said, turning over his shoulder and stretching his arms over his head. “You aren’t invited, B.” Dick added. Bruce suppressed the urge to narrow his eyes at the back of his son’s head.

“Is she still thinking about it?” Bruce pressed. Dick nodded. He wasn’t about to sugarcoat this. He glanced at Damian, who had been watching them. Damian turned back to the computer.

“You know you can’t blame her.” Dick tried, dropping his arms.

“Dick.” Bruce warned. They were not about to have this conversation right now. 

“Just saying.” Dick said. He looked at Bruce. “Nathaniel was out on patrol yesterday.” He said, changing the subject. If Bruce didn’t want to talk to him about it then _fine_. Bruce blinked in surprise. How had he not known about that? 

“What? _When_?” Bruce asked. _He_ had been out on patrol yesterday, and Tim had not relayed it was going to be Nathaniel in the Red Hood gear instead of Jason. That should have come with no hesitation. Bruce would have to talk to both Tim _and_ Jason about it later. And that brought back some memories.

“They were in and out before Damian and I came back. Tim told us.” Dick said. Perhaps Tim would have also told Bruce about Nathaniel had he not asked Tim to _go to bed_. Bruce had a feeling Tim wasn’t as thrilled about this arrangement as he made it out to be. And Bruce couldn’t blame him. 

“I’ll talk to him about it later.” Bruce sighed, and he let his arms drop to his sides. “Have a good lunch.” He said, and he was gone.

\--

Koriand’r was no longer a possible spouse for Dick Grayson. She and Dick had their run, she and _Jason_ had their own brief run, but any relationship with her was off the table for Dick. He was getting older, and needed something more dependable. He couldn’t handle Kori walking out on him again. He loved too much, and Kori’s demons were too spontaneous and called for her to leave at any time, which would devastate him.

With many of his friends and love interests dead, the only other person Dick Grayson _truly_ thought about having a serious relationship with was Barbara Gordon. His childhood sweetheart, the first Batgirl. And she was truly a catch. It didn’t matter that she was gorgeous or that her intellect challenged everyone in the cave’s, though it certainly helped, but she was his only real friend in all of this Bat-mess he felt like _he_ could personally depend on. His first real friend that he’d clicked with. And the Boy Wonder fell in love with her in no time.

But that same Boy Wonder wanted to experiment, so here they were plenty of years later, dating, once she allowed him to. And in all honesty, Dick couldn’t have been happier.

“Bruce asked about you again today.”

“Of course he did.” Barbara scoffed, taking a sip of her tea. She put it down with a clunk. “I’m not planning to back down any time soon.”

“He knows you aren’t,” Dick replied, leaning back in his seat and stretching out his legs. “ _I_ know you aren’t,” He added. “Tim was there yesterday.”

Barbara smiled. “How is he? The only bad thing about him being back is that I don’t get to see him.” 

“He’s still Tim, but it’s like something’s off,” Dick frowned. “It’s like he’s up and down. You know how about the gala I told you about he would barely speak to me and honest to god _would not_ stop drinking. And then last night he was all awkward smiles and business. And then this morning he looked like he’d been to hell and back.”

“Who knows what’s going on inside his head,” Barbara sighed. “The Justice League is working him to _death._ ” She emphasized, throwing her hands up. Dick took a swig of his coffee, and tapped the near-empty cup on the table, deep in thought.

“I wish I knew.” Dick sighed, and Babs nodded in sympathy. She said nothing, which was his cue to go on a rant. “It’s just that I can’t help but care. Tim’s never told me if anything was wrong and I’m worried he’s just letting it all bottle up before he _explodes_. And I don’t want to see him explode.”

“That would not be fun,” Barbara agreed. “Have you ever _asked_ him if anything was wrong?” 

“I never get the chance.” Dick whined, throwing his head back over his chair. Barbara tapped her finger to the table, and laid her hand down palm up. He grabbed her hand and straightened in his chair.

“You know, a text would be fine. You don’t have to always be face to face.”

“He’ll just ignore the text and claim he was busy.” Dick replied and Barbara tilted her head to the side. That did seem like something Tim would do. She shrugged her shoulders and leaned in closer.

“You think he’d ignore Jason’s texts?” Barbara asked, and Dick pretended not to notice the quirk of a smile in the corner of her pretty little mouth. Dick shook his head.

“I’ve already asked him to try. I don’t think he ever got over the fact that Tim left what they had together.”

“That happened _literally_ six years ago.”

“Yeah, but you saw how many people they were taking down. They solved cases left and right Babs, that doesn’t happen with everyone.”

“Which is exactly why Jason should _talk to him_.”

“Well if it helps, I’m pretty sure they talked last night.” Dick said. Barbara’s eyes lit up.

“They did?” She asked, and Dick shrugged. He squeezed her hand.

“Jay let Nathaniel out on patrol by himself last night. Which left _him_ at the cave alone with Tim who just so happened to be playing Oracle,” Dick shrugged. “I guess you could call it _luck_.”

“Jason probably let Tim have it, hm?” Barbara asked with a grin. Dick rolled his eyes. 

“Probably,” He sighed. “I hope they didn’t argue.” He said and Barbara chuckled.

“Jason Todd alone with Tim Drake with no interruptions? Of course they argued.” Barbara laughed. Dick rubbed his thumb into her palm having suddenly gone silent.

“I…” He looked down at their hands. “I miss how things used to be.” He finally said.

Barbara squeezed his hand. “Is this about me retiring?” She asked, and after a pause Dick nodded. She sighed in exasperation, but didn’t let his hand go.

“Babs, I don’t feel right dumping it on to them. It isn’t right.” Dick muttered. “But you know I want to retire soon, too.”

“Dick, I’m over fifty. _You’re_ about to turn fifty. We can’t do this forever.” Barbara murmured. Dick ducked his head forward.

“God, don’t remind me. And sweetheart I remember you turning _twenty-five,_ not fifty. You don’t look a day older.” He smiled, and Barbara returned his smile in sympathy.

“I just wish we knew someone who could take over. Jason has Nathaniel, but who do we have?” She asked rhetorically. Dick squeezed her hand and shook his head.

“I love you Babs, but I am not bringing another kid into this world. Jason can do whatever he wants but I… I can’t stomach it.” Dick replied. Barbara nodded. She agreed, but it still sucked.

“I know,” She frowned. “I know.”

“It’s just--” Dick continued, unable to let the subject drop, “What will happen once we’re all gone?”

“We’re not _that_ old, Dick.”

“But we’re old enough that we should be _thinking_ about it.” He countered, and Barbara sighed. “With you leaving soon enough anyway, Tim’s going to be working more than he does at this rate. _And I don’t mean that in a bad way_. Tim’s going to be overworked, but so will everyone else.”

“There’ll be a new generation, Dick. A new gang of kids will rise up and protect Gotham.” Barbara suggested helplessly, and Dick threw his head backward again and pulled away, carding his hands through his hair.

“Nathan and what army?” Dick groaned, and Barbara shrugged.

“Damian is still in his twenties. He’s still a baby.” Barbara pointed out. Dick met her eye. He couldn’t disagree with that one. “And who knows, maybe _he’ll_ have children of his own. He does have to hold up that Al Ghulian bloodline, doesn’t he?” Barbara laughed, and Dick choked on what was left of his coffee.

“Oh my god, Damian having a kid? Having a _girlfriend, boyfriend, or partner_?” Dick asked aloud. “I don’t know what I would do.” He said, and a ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. He grabbed her hand again.

“Dick, it will all work out,” Barbara said, and she willed him to meet her eyes. “Bruce wouldn’t let all of this fail. He’s worked too hard for it to go this far and crumble.”

It was Dick’s turn to sigh. “Yeah. You’re right.”

Barbara smiled. “Of course I am.” 

\--

“We should be wrapping up soon at this rate, huh?”

Cass sent Steph a cursory glance over her shoulder from where she was several feet ahead, peering down at the streets from a rooftop. The girls were doing well. They were months into this investigation, and they were lucky things were wrapping up nicely. Lady Shiva of course was nowhere to be found, but it had been comparatively easy to clean up her messes and get rid of her goons. 

Steph took the glance as an agreement, and grinned to herself. She was itching to go back home. She loved the adventure, and she loved Cass and being trusted enough to go with her on these missions, but Gotham was her home and she missed her friend. Tim Drake was home for all of her taking in the cave, and she wasn’t there to take advantage of it. That was going to drive her insane.

She missed their talks late into the night, sitting on his bed, their limbs tangled as they tried to eat Alfred’s cooking without getting any of it on his sheets. She missed the gossip and the secrets he would tell her, and she missed being able to dump all of her baggage on to him, too. 

And don’t get her wrong: Cass was a good listener. She was a _beyond_ good listener. But Cass was good at telling Stephanie how to fix her problems. She wasn’t good at providing empathy or the emotional response Steph wanted to have like Tim was--not that he was too good at it either. But Tim was her best friend.

“Have you called Robin yet?”

“No. I plan to do so later. I have no doubt he is doing well, though.” Cass replied. She doubled back and patted Steph on her shoulder, giving her a nod. “Let’s move on to the next building and... stake-out there. We aren’t getting anything here.” Cass directed and Stephanie nodded happily, following Cass like a little puppy. And in the meanwhile, Stephanie was okay with that. She was admittedly out of her element here, unlike Cass. Had they been in Gotham, it would have been a different story.

Stephanie would take the lead, and Cass would fall in step with ease. And that was just how it was between them. It was _super_ easy between them, and Stephanie loved it. It wasn’t like her and Tim, where they were both fighting for control. That-- that was _relentless_. With Cass there was an understanding that the control shifted each night, or that they would have “equal” control. Stephanie liked to say she and Cass clicked just like Tim and Jason clicked way back when. She at least _hoped_ she had some of what they had.

Later, Steph cooked dinner for the pair of them. Before Alfred was gone, he took it upon himself to teach the two unhealthiest “Bat Brats” how to cook properly. And that meant Stephanie Brown and Dick Grayson. She remembered asking Alfred why he didn’t teach Jason, and the old man simply responded that Jason had already rummaged through all of his cookbooks and recipes years ago even before Nathan came around. He didn’t need to worry about Jason’s healthiness, he was covered. It was Dick Grayson who had been living off of fruit loops and Stephanie Brown who had acquired Tim Drake’s habit of always getting take-out that he needed to worry about. And he would have taught Tim had he not been so busy at the Hall of Justice.

Stephanie and Dick slaved for days at the family’s expense. The meals for weeks came only out of product of Stephanie and Dick, and it got so bad Damian insisted that he be taught too. Damian became a masterchef relatively quickly while Dick and Stephanie continued to slave. But here they were now. Dick took it upon himself to cook whenever he was there for the family, just as Alfred did, and now Stephanie could do the same whenever she was at the Manor. It was, admittedly, a valuable skill she had been taught. Actual protein and veggies did wonders, in all honesty.

“Cass, dinner’s almost ready.” Steph sang, slamming the oven shut triumphantly. She had been craving pizza and bought one with vegetables so she wouldn’t feel guilty about it later. She figured if she at least had _something_ with vegetables it would be suitable in Alfred’s old eyes, and she wasn’t picky. Cass stopped her pull ups and hung upside down by her legs. They’d installed a metal bar in one of their doorways in this tiny little temporary apartment of theirs. 

By then Stephanie’s hair had dried from when she’d taken a shower after patrol and she had thrown it into a ponytail. Cass had been working out ever since they got home. She watched Cass from the kitchen, chin resting on her arm, beer in her other hand. The ding from the oven distracted her from her thoughts, and found Cass still hanging upside out of breath on the bar as she placed the pizza on the table.

“Cassie, all that blood is going to your head.” Steph warned, and before she said anything else Cass dropped to the ground, landing on her feet without another word. She went crossed-legged on the floor to be elbow-level at the coffee table, and Stephanie fell down onto their ugly mold-colored couch. Steph nursed a pizza in one hand and her beer in the other. After sitting in a comfortable silence, Cass cleared her throat and looked up.

“Tim sounded different today.” Cass said. Stephanie blinked and swallowed.

“Different how?” She asked. Cass was normally right about these things.

“Not sure. Different… distracted? Sad?” Cassandra shrugged and took another bite of pizza.

“Maybe he misses the manor. I don’t wanna know what it’s like to be an Oracle _period_ , and he has to do it for the Justice League. It’s gotta be tough on him.”

“Six years. Something else.” Cass didn’t think it was his job at the Hall of Justice. If it was, he would have been acting similar. There was something obvious off, as if it wasn’t something that happened day-to-day. 

“Then… his boyfriend, Conner? He said they fought again.”

“Fight all the time,” Cassandra agreed, but she went quiet. After awhile she said, “Something else. _Fight all the time_.” She emphasized. Stephanie nodded slowly. Cassandra was right in what she was saying. Kon and Tim fought all the time: always bad arguments they refused to mend because both of them were either too stubborn, or the other would let it drop without apologizing. Stephanie felt her blood boil, as she and Tim had some of the same problems. But like Cass was getting at, Tim’s behavior was different this time.

“Then it’s Jason. They talked last night, and who _knows_ what happened. We might go home to find the Batcave destroyed.” Stephanie laughed, but Cass nodded.

“Jason made Tim sad.” Cass finished, and Stephanie only replied with a shrug. It could have been _anything_. But then Stephanie thought about Cassandra and her splitting ways without so much as a warning, and she felt a dark pit find its home in her stomach. She didn’t want to imagine anything without Cass.

If Cass just walked away from her, she didn’t know what she would do.


	6. His Second Half

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now. Damian and Dick uncover Nathaniel's secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hii hope you enjoy :)

Tim decided he didn’t like “being healthy.” 

He knew not to go against what Bruce asked, because he was normally right and Tim had no reason _not_ to trust him, especially in this case, but Tim thought otherwise now. Wayne Enterprises ended up going on the backburner. He was turning into Bruce Wayne when he first started taking a huge role in the Justice League, and now Tim didn’t blame him.

And that made Bruce a hypocrite when he refused to let Tim stay awake for more than 2 days in a row. 

While Tim _had_ been getting more sleep, miraculously, his physical condition hardly improved. It had been several weeks since they first started this stupid schedule with Tim covering some days at the Manor and Barbara covering the other days. And admittedly, Tim saw where Bruce was coming from. For some reason the crime _had_ picked up. There could be a new player in town for all they knew, Tim was still looking into it. And as far as Tim knew Jason was looking into it from the underground, too.

He hadn’t talked to Jason once since his first day, either. They’d catch glimpses of one another: Tim would be sitting at the Batcomputer and Jason would come by every now and then to get briefed or something. But that was when other people were there. They haven’t been alone since, and the air between them was awkward. Not that Tim cared.

But this was just a whole other job for him now, and so Tim was working overtime. He knew better than to ask _what was the point?_ Tim wasn’t getting anything out of this. They had pretty much all the money in the world so long as he kept somewhat of an eye on W.E., and he had a hot boyfriend… What else could he want?

Tim willed his eyes to open. 

Tim typically wasn’t the type to be dramatic. It never suited him, it suited Dick to be dramatic and emotional and over the top. But Tim refused to look in the mirror when he woke up everyday, unless it was to make sure he looked somewhat presentable before stepping foot into Wayne Enterprises or one of Bruce Wayne’s galas. The people at the Hall of Justice learned not to care. Tim could walk in with a bedhead and sweatpants and they probably wouldn’t bat an eye. But he knew he looked like hell. He knew he probably had dark circles under his eyes, knew his hair was likely sticking up every which way, knew that he was surrounded by papers stacked up to his chin… 

Superman got the sense it probably wasn’t a good idea to talk to him much anymore. In fact, no one did much of anything. Things went on as normal at the Hall of Justice. People were in and out, and Tim continued to keep to himself except to issue out commands and objectives. A few people would have meetings with him to discuss their cases in more detail, and they would be on their way. 

And Tim _was_ approachable. It was encouraged by the older members that the newer members go and speak to him if they needed help with detective work. All the newer members saw was an angry, irritable man who looked like he hadn’t slept for weeks. _A college student_ , remember. Tim only had two rules: Don’t waste his time and Don’t give him small talk. For the more awkward individuals, it was a piece of cake. They could walk right up to him and start spouting details and they’d get help within minutes. And they’d soon come to realize this “kid” in sweatpants knew what the hell he was doing. 

And that was just how it was going to be for the rest of his life. When he wasn’t having a meeting with someone he was relaying information over the comms to people out on the field and when he wasn’t doing that he was designing new blueprints for the scientists at Wayne Enterprises to improve their products. _Or_ managing the damn business. He kept in track of his managers as best as possible: they were respectable people who knew what they were doing, so he didn’t have to worry _too_ much. And then he had to drive all the way over to the Batcave and monitor their patrols. So, he would be doing what he was doing at the Hall of Justice, but he would be closer and more accessible for _them._

It was an ulterior motive for him to be healthy, but he was beginning not to see it that way.

He felt like he was being babied all over again. He was perfectly fine doing what he’d done for the past six years. In fact, he was just as bad as before if not _worse_. But now that he accepted Bruce’s plea it wasn’t like he could back out of it without looking like an asshole. His heart was for Gotham first. Not anywhere else. And if Tim walked away from them all again, what would happen? Would they blame him for it if it ended up being too much? Would they hate him for it?

He had no idea.

\--

“If they don’t know already they’re going to find out sooner or later.”

“Can you _not_ say that.” Nathaniel whined, slamming their front door closed. Jason sat on the floor crossed-legged and covered in grease with a gun in his lap. He was clad in a wife beater and sweatpants and for effect there was a streak of grime across his forehead where he had probably wiped his brow with the back of his wrist.

“I’m just saying,” Jason said, picking up the screwdriver at his thigh, “That’s what they do. They’re a family of detectives, Nate.” Jason warned, and Nate pelted his backpack to their armchair and jumped over and landed on top of their couch. He was pouting and had his arms crossed. Jason ignored him.

“She doesn’t even know we’re related to the Waynes,” Nathaniel complained. “And there’s no way she has anything to do with crime!” Nathaniel cried, pressing his palms to his eyes like Jason did nights before. Jason chuckled, and looked over at his distraught son.

“Kid, I know all of that. They don’t know Jess like I know Jess. They just see a girl with a good head on her shoulders and a whole bunch of muscle.” Jason explained matter-of-factly, and Nathaniel groaned.

“Really?” He asked helplessly. Jason gave him a look.

“Yes, really. How else would they look at it, man?” Jason asked. “If you want to keep the girl a secret, make sure _Tim Drake_ doesn’t get any word of it.” Jason shouted over his shoulder as Nathaniel ducked into the kitchen. He rummaged through their cabinets in search of a snack before he replied. They switched safehouses the day after Nathaniel patrolled by himself for the first time, and so he’d let Jess walk him home so she could see where it was. Jason, having seen no threats in the girl, could not have cared less. And he always slipped out to go on patrol if Jess decided to stay the night. And Jason would stay out _longer_ if he had to. He wasn’t going to risk witnessing _that._

And Jessica was a nice girl. It didn’t take long for Jason to find out Nate was seeing someone. Jason wasn’t Tim or Babs or Bruce, but he was a goddamn detective like it or not. He was the fucking Red Hood for Christ’s sake, a notorious crime lord. He could figure out if his son was seeing someone _with ease_. Nate had no choice but to introduce them.

The poor girl, Jess, had no idea what she was getting into. Jason was at home, and Nathan had texted him incessantly begging him not to make a scene and to hide all of their weapons, and Jason complied. He _didn’t_ comply in the future, but for her to be invited into the house for the first time? Jason could see where the kid was coming from. And if anything he was happy the guy had a girlfriend. That type of closeness was _rare_ for Jason.

Jason busied himself in the kitchen that day. The girl had off from all of her clubs and sports so Jason intended to make her day off good with a nice dinner. He could do that much, and it kept him out of his son’s hair while he was hanging out with this “mystery” girl. Jason _would_ investigate the girl in his own time. Unlike the others, he thought he was the best at _reading_ real people. Jason talked to the people on the streets, talked to the working girls about their pimps to make sure they were being treated right... the other Bats couldn’t say that for themselves. So Jason would have a conversation with her. If Jason got a wrong signal from the girl, they’d abandon that safehouse and Nathaniel wouldn’t be allowed to pursue a relationship with her.

Lucky for them, Jessica was a sweetheart. And Jason knew well enough to decipher genuine sweetness from fake.

Jason had been peeling potatoes when he heard the doorknob to their front door turn. That safehouse was a 2B/1B with a living room and a kitchen. A lot of Jason’s older safehouses were one bedroom, but ever since Nate came along they’ve made a lot of use out of the 2 bedroom ones. Especially when he got older. 

“Dad’s probably cooking. I’ll introduce you and then I’ll show you around...” Jason could make out parts of their conversation through their walls. He’s half-tempted to check the security cams on his phone. He had been very good about not digging into Jess’ privacy. He didn’t even know what the girl looked like. Nothing pointed to her being bad, so what did it matter? It wasn’t like Nathaniel was raised to be an idiot, either. He continued peeling.

“He’s cooking?” Jessica had chirped, and Jason noted that her footsteps were heavy. She wasn’t careful and light on her feet like a vigilante or a trained criminal often was. It’s small, but a clear indication of her innocence. In fact, that very trait led him to find Nate for the very first time.

“Yeah, he’s actually pretty good at it,” Nathaniel’s smile was soft. “Dad!” He shouted, louder that time. That was Jason’s cue to recognize they were there. Any normal parent wouldn’t have been that keen of hearing. 

“Hey, in here.” Jason said. Nathaniel could ask him to do a lot of things. He could ask him to hide the weapons, hide any high tech gear he might have, cook whatever dinner he wanted, but he could _not_ ask Jason to pretend to be someone he wasn’t. Jason was a single father with a prominent “bowery”--as Damian liked to call it--accent who was over six feet tall and had shoulders more than two feet wide, who had an advanced repertoire of not only a variety of swears but Shakespearean monologues, and acted like a _regular housewife_. Jason was going to be himself, thank you very much, whether Nathaniel liked it or not.

“Hey, Dad,” Nathaniel smiled, and Jason glanced up and looked between him and the girl. He could see Nathaniel’s eyes begging him not to do something stupid--even though the kid knew he wouldn’t--but he also saw Nathaniel’s eyes glance down at his apron. _So what if Jason liked his damn apron_. This Jess girl on the other hand was all manners. Her smile went large, and her expression was clear. She had no idea how to, or at least wasn’t _trying_ to, hide her expressions. Another “normal” sign. She was white with light brown hair and hazel eyes, and admittedly gorgeous. Her skin was tanned from being out in the sun.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Todd! I’m Jessica.” She smiled, extending her hand. The last time Jason was called Mr. Todd was never. “Mr. Todd,” as far as he was aware, didn’t exist. Other than their family Jason didn’t speak to anyone other than criminals and his henchmen. As far as he was concerned his name was “Red Hood” whenever he was just _outside_. And that fact hit him hard. Jason returned her smile and wiped his hand on his apron. _See?_ Smart. 

“What’s a lovely young lady like you doing with my son?” Jason smiled, shaking her hand. At her giggle, he continued, “You eat meat? I’m making Irish potato pie and might add bacon.” Jess glanced at Nate and could not contain her smile. Nate rolled his eyes and ducked into the fridge to grab drinks.

“Yeah, I do.” She slid on top of a barstool to the counter Jason was working on. “What’s Irish potato pie?” She asked, and Jason knew Nate was begging him not to go on a tangent from behind his back.

“It’s like any other pie, but actually _good_ for you. A lot of carbs for people who are active,” Jason paused as he put down a potato and started on another. He seemed to be taking his “parenting role” very seriously. “I understand you do crew?” Jason asked. Nathaniel admitted defeat and slid onto the barstool beside his girlfriend. Nate knew what this was, it was an _interrogation_. She gratefully accepted the water he handed her, and nodded happily. She accepted any and every opportunity to talk about her rowing. 

“Yep! I’ve been doing it for five years and will be continuing in college. It’s a good workout.” She shrugged, eyeing Nathaniel. Jason smiled. She _had_ to be wondering why both Nathaniel and his father were so buff. Anyone could tell Nate had muscle. He had bigger arms than most, nice calves… but Jason was a whole other story. One look at him, and one could tell lifting was at least a _hobby_ for the guy. Jason could hardly hide how big his arms and shoulders were, or how big his thighs were. He couldn’t help the fact that he was a _big guy._

“You use an erg machine, yeah? I’ve never tried it before.” Jason pressed, genuinely curious. He knew it was a good cardio workout, but Bruce never saw the machine as necessary. He found it easier to just send his Robins out on runs around the estate instead. 

“Yeah, you can find them in gyms or you can get them pretty cheap. I have one where I live.” She turned to Nate, who was trying to get out of this conversation. “Nate’s tried it before!” She smiled purposefully, poking him in the side. Jason eyed his son.

“Oh _really_?” Jason asked, and Nathaniel sighed with a small shrug. Nate put his hands in the air as if to say _What can you do?_

“He pulled a 1:45 split for his first 2K! I’ve never seen someone who hasn’t done crew before pull a split that low,” She grinned. “He’s really very strong.” She complimented, and Nate laughed. Jason glanced up to see they were staring at each other. Jason blinked. “That means he went 2,000 meters in seven minutes! Some people dream of hitting splits that low, so it really was impressive.” She hurriedly explained once they snapped out of it, and Nate exchanged a glance with his father. Jason rolled his eyes, trying not to pull a face. Nate was really hook line and sinker with this girl, _huh?_

“Alright, alright. Scram kids, I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.” Jason snapped, shooing them off. Jessica giggled and nodded. Nathaniel looked more than thankful to get out of there. And suddenly Jason was alone. And he decided that Jessica was _fine_. Especially when she wouldn’t stop complimenting his cooking. That was nice. A genuine person on the outside, showing Jason a sliver of respect. The feeling was alien. It was _nice._

Nathaniel returned from the kitchen with two bottled waters in his hands and threw one at his father still tinkering on his gun. 

“You say that as if Tim’s uncovered a secret of yours.” Nathaniel said, crashing back onto the couch. Jason didn’t hesitate to reply. He didn’t even tense. It was like he expected Nathaniel to say that.

“That’s because he has.” He muttered under his breath as he worked out a kink in the trigger. Nathaniel grinned like he’d discovered a gold mine. He liked as much dirt he could get on his family as possible. And the Batfamily was straight up _grimy._

“And what did he dig up?” Nathaniel asked. Finally, Jason turned and met Nate’s eye over his shoulder.

“That, my friend, is _none of your business,_ ” Jason replied and Nathaniel groaned. He loved his father, but he was so _secretive._ Jason didn’t let him find out anything he didn’t want him knowing. And that was annoying. “But hey, back to Jess. What’s the plan?”

“What do you mean, what's the plan?” Nathaniel asked. “I’m not breaking up with her.”

“ _Not what I’m saying_. I’m saying you can either A: let them find out for themselves or B: tell them she exists and give in to them wanting to meet her. Until they see for themselves who she is, they’re going to see her as a threat to our operation. She’s not just any girl, you chose the most suspicious girl in Gotham, pal. Beautiful, strong, and insanely smart.” Jason listed, and Nathaniel sighed.

“You’d be okay with me inviting her to dinner with the Waynes?” Nate asked, incredulous. Jason simply shrugged and leaned back on his left hand, twirling the gun by its trigger with his right.

“I don’t care what you do. If you want to introduce her to them, be my guest. Otherwise you’ll feel what it’s like to have ‘em up your ass all the time.” Jason grunted, pushing himself to his feet. “Now while you let that stew, whatcha want for dinner?”

Nathaniel frowned at the pun while Jason lit up with pure unadulterated glee. “You are _so_ lame.” He muttered, and Jason laughed--which only made Nathaniel more annoyed-- and swiped at the back of his head.

\--

4AM,

Jason didn’t think about Tim. Not when he woke up, not during the day… but tonight Jason _was_ laying awake, thinking. He’d just finished patrol and showered, and Nate, as far as Jason was aware, had been asleep for a few hours at that point. He’d have class in a few hours. They’ve gotten into a routine where Nate’s typically gone by the time Jason wakes up in the morning, and Nate’s asleep by the time Jason returns from patrol.

So Nate had no idea Jason was awake and thinking about the one person he pretty much refused to talk about. Jason thought about Tim at night when no one knew he would be thinking about him. He stared up at the ceiling and felt nothing. Not anger, not sadness, no bitterness. He just felt empty in a way he didn’t comprehend. 

Tim Drake walked out on him six years ago. And he understood why: Tim’s skills were of better use over at the Hall of Justice. And when Jason went out for his first patrol without Tim in his ear or beside him, he claimed he didn’t want a partner because he had Nathaniel. And it was as simple as that. The family left him alone. He was the Red Hood again and just the Red Hood. There no longer was a “Hood and Drake.” Just “ _Hood._ ” 

On a typical day, Jason forced himself to forget about it and just go to sleep. That it was _enough_ thinking about Tim. But then, when he was really depressed, he thought about it _more._ Thought about their stake-outs and their late night endeavors to crappy bars, their movie nights with Nate curled up in between them, and that was when it really started to suck. 

He thought about the mornings where he’d wake up and Tim would still be crashed on his couch, not to wake up for another hour. He thought about racing after Tim during a patrol after he shared an especially crappy pun, eager to pin him down and put him in his place for his crappy jokes. He thought about Tim telling him he was an idiot for making dumb decisions that almost killed him, and how days later Jason would probably be telling him the same thing and sewing a stitch into his thigh--

Jason rolled to his stomach and buried his head into his pillow. He scratched the back of his neck and traced a particularly thick line of scar tissue down his throat. The thickest line on his neck was from a batarang. Bruce. The second thickest he got while he was out on patrol with Tim. That day was a nightmare.

And now Tim was back for the time being, and Jason didn’t know what to think. Tim had more than enough work on his plate, and Jason figured it would probably be better for everyone if _he_ particularly left Tim alone. The whole Babs thing was up in the air, and could lead to a lot of different things happening. Tim’s future in the Batcave was uncertain. And Jason didn’t want to be as much of a burden as he probably already was.

And it pissed him off that he knew nothing about Tim now. And he knew that he was at fault, too--not just Tim.. He never reached out to Tim, out of fear he was going to be messing him up, and Tim never reached out to Jason because… because why?

Jason had no idea. He found out later Steph called him occasionally. He would hear snippets of their conversation and would very quickly turn away and continue down the hallway in the opposite direction. Steph, who was Tim’s best friend from the beginning, could call Tim. But what reason would Jason legitimately have for calling him? As far as the rest of the Bats were concerned, he and Tim’s partnership was over and Jason didn’t even care. He never wanted to know how Tim was doing at the Hall of Justice. He claimed that he was a crime lord and that he didn’t give a rat’s ass what the Justice League did. And so the family said nothing about it, and Jason was convinced he was better off that way.

And if Jason ever felt the urge to visit Tim, or even find out where the hell the guy lived… he could convince himself he didn’t want to be a burden. He would convince himself he would just get in the way, and Tim would hate him for it.

He’d seen Tim stressed before. He didn’t want to see it again.

So he laid there aimlessly, unable to do anything about it. He considered that he might be lonely, which was pointless because he knew he was. Jason had no friends that weren’t already dead or MIA, and Nate was his entire life. And so when Tim was thrusted by Bruce into his life, and they somehow became friends, what was he supposed to do now that Tim was gone and he had no say in what happened next?

Jason craved human contact just like anyone else. And so when his new “friend” was ripped out of his life for a greater cause--what was he supposed to do? Say it was _unfair_? Say it hurt his _feelings_? Not in a million years. He was too proud for shit like that, and it wasn’t as if the Joker didn’t bother him. Jason still had nightmares _today_. Years later. That was never going to change: he woke up in the middle of the night after a fitful sleep because he felt the sting of a crowbar _again_. Or he saw the crowbar _hitting someone else_. 

Jason wasn’t a healthy guy by any means.

And so the last thing someone like him needed to do was bother someone the Justice League-- _the world_ \--depended on.


	7. Unpleasantly Buzzed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Then. Jason gives Tim stitches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyaa hope you enjoy. This story is jam-packed with flashbacks and such, so be prepared for that!! Here’s one now :)

“Weren’t you hit with the toxin?” Tim’s voice came out in a rush and his nimble fingers were at work at the back of Jason’s helmet, wincing as blood began to drain out of his arm. 

“Christ, I’m okay, give me your goddamn _arm._ ” Jason whispered impatiently, shoving Tim’s arms away and ripping his helmet the rest of the way off. 

“Where’s Nathaniel?” Tim asked as Jason crowded him into a corner and into a chair. Jason hooked another chair with his foot and dragged the coffee table across his busted wooden floor. Tim frowned as he looked over his arm. Both of them were drenched in sweat after an especially rough run in with Scarecrow, and Tim had lost a lot of blood.

Neither were expecting it: Jason had been a victim to a new line of fear gas and Tim had gotten an especially nasty gash in his arm trying to mitigate damage. It was vital they got it stitched immediately. The rest of the Bats were dragging Scarecrow into Arkham and had trusted Jason to take care of Tim. What they didn’t see was that Jason had been hit with the gas, and being the stubborn prick he was, he didn’t say anything to them. And Tim didn’t say anything either. 

“In the back, asleep. This was the closest safehouse, I didn’t want to risk anything.” 

“He can’t see us like this.” Tim whispered, horrified. Jason glared at him and seized his arm after grabbing a medical kit and forcing his hands into plastic gloves. 

“Princess, you think I don’t know that? Hold still and keep quiet.” Jason commanded, wiping his arm down. Tim watched, concerned, as Jason leaned over him and paused intermittently, breathing in and out and closing his eyes. His breathing was shallow and hot on Tim’s arm.

“You’re not okay,” Tim stated, grabbing his wrist as he tried to thread the needle. “Let me do this.” 

“I’m fine. I just need a minute,” Jason breathed, and Tim frowned and took the needle from Jason with his free hand. He held it steady as Jason threaded it. Jason scooted closer and straddled Tim’s left leg. 

“If you’re not okay, you know I can do it myself. I’ve done it before.” Tim tried to bargain, leaning in to try and catch Jason’s eye. Jason looked up at him and pressed their foreheads together as he tried to come back to the present. Tim couldn’t help but laugh under his breath and Jason’s face scrunched up into a grimace.

“Hold still while I do this.” Jason whispered quietly and Tim realized he had lost this battle. Jason insisted on doing it for him. He leaned his head back against the wall and sighed as Jason’s fingers pressed his skin together and continued to sew, trying not to think about it. Once he was done, both of them looked over the poorly done stitches in contempt. They were twisted and ugly and were definitely going to leave a scar. Tim shook his head as Jason wiped away the rest of the blood on his arm. He sighed and leaned forward, ducking his head.

“What did you see?” Tim asked quietly, shifting and bumping the inside of Jason’s thigh with his knee. Jason grunted and didn’t look up. Tim overlooked the planes on his back, damp with sweat. That wasn’t normal sweat, that was _fear gas_ sweat. And despite Jason taking a “break” and stitching his arm up horribly, he was doing a very good job at hiding the side effects. 

“What?”

“I know you got hit. What did you see?” Tim pressed, and Jason looked up at him tiredly.

“You don’t have to worry about me.” Jason said, and made a move to get up. Tim grabbed his wrist and anchored him down. Jason could have easily pulled away. But he didn’t. Tim had shrugged out of his costume and sat topless. It was hot in the apartment.

“What if I’m just curious to see what you saw?”

“What if I told you it was none of your business?”

“What if _I_ told you I wouldn’t stop pestering you until you told me?” Tim asked, and Jason rolled his eyes. 

“Can we not do this while I’m still doped?” Jason asked. “Nate’s still asleep.” Jason said and Tim shook his head. 

“Is it really that bad?” Tim asked, softer. Tim didn’t know why he wanted to know so badly. Maybe it was because of how close he and Jason were. Tim was the only one allowed in Jason’s safehouses with him and his son, and Tim knew from talking with Stephanie it was good to have a confidant. He wanted to be that person for Jason. 

“Yeah, _Tim,_ it is.” Jason snapped. When Tim didn’t say anything, he huffed angrily. “It’s called I get to relive the same nightmare over and over again, with or without the gas. The only thing it’s really doing to me is giving me a high, which is something I _do not_ need,” Jason said, and he ripped his arm away. “It’s nothing I can’t _fucking_ deal with, so leave me alone,” He muttered. “I’m taking a shower.”

“Jason, it’s _okay,_ ” Tim tried, standing up. Jason shed his shirt and pelted it at him.

“I don’t want to hear it.” Jason whispered, stabbing a finger in the air toward Tim. “You don’t get it, so don’t act like you do.”

“Why don’t you explain it to me?” Tim said. “Why can’t you just tell me what’s going on?”

“Because you wouldn’t get it,” Jason laughed hysterically. He carded his hands through his hair. “I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“But you need to, Jay.” Tim warned. “You’re going to explode. There’s something you need to say, so just _say_ it. I don’t know how much more I’m going to have to say to try and convince you.” 

Jason turned over his shoulder and surged toward him. Tim clammed up and gasped, frozen to the spot. Jason grabbed his good arm. He was relieved when Jason’s grip lessened, and Tim could taste his regret. Jason glanced down at his hand wrapped around Tim’s arm, and rubbed his thumb into his wrist.

“I used to watch myself die,” Tim looked up at him. “And I heard _him_ \--I could repeat to you word for word what happened that day. I can feel the crowbar hitting my skull. And then I saw Nate. I saw him get hit and there was _nothing_ I could do about it. And it fucking blowed.” Jason said, lowering his eyes. “And now, Tim, I see you. I see you get hurt by him and it makes me fucking sick. If you died, I.. I don’t know what I would do.” Jason cleared his throat. “If you died what would Bruce say? What would Dick say? Everything would stop.” Jason muttered. Tim looked away.

“I’m not going anywhere, Jason.” Tim replied, and Jason shook his head.

“That’s not true, so don’t say it is,” When Tim opened his mouth to counter he pressed a finger to his lips. “Any of us could die at any second, and look, that doesn’t matter. This is what you wanted to know, alright? It’s a fucked form of PTSD, and that’s all you need to know and we are _not_ talking about this again.”

“Does Nathaniel know?” Tim asked quietly, and Jason shook his head.

“Of course not.” Jason muttered as he let go of his arm. 

“Have you talked to anyone about this?” Tim asked, following Jason as he pulled away. Jason flicked on the lights of the bathroom and crossed his arms, stopping Tim in the doorway. 

“No. I’ve been perfectly fine since I’ve come back dealing with all of this. I’m used to it now,” Jason paused, and grabbed the side of the door to shut it on him. Tim held his palm out flat on the door, keeping it open. “It’s just my reality.” He finished and Tim was unamused.

“It doesn’t have to be, you idiot. You can talk to me about those things,” Tim said, tilting his head to the side to lean against the door. “I might not have seen all the things you have, but we all have our demons,” He raised a brow. “So talk to me.” Tim said. Jason chuckled and leaned his head against thesaurus door.

“So sappy, princess.” Jason murmured and Tim shrugged with a giggle.

“Take a shower. I’m going to pass out in like five seconds.” Tim said, pulling away. Jason dragged his hand down his face and nodded.

“No coffee, I’ll be done soon. Are you staying the night?”

Tim turned over his shoulder and looked him up and down thoughtfully. “Yeah,” he smiled. “I am.”

\--

“Tim! I didn’t know you were staying the night! I would’ve stayed up to say hi!” Nathaniel practically pounced on him the moment he saw him, and Jason looked on apologetically as Tim, still half asleep, wrapped Nathaniel into his blanketed arms on the couch. He yawned and messed Nathaniel’s hair.

“That’s okay,” Tim said, eyeing Jason who passed the pair on the way to the kitchen. “What time is it?”

“It’s 6:30! I’m gonna go to school soon!” Nathaniel bounced excitedly. Tim wrestled Nathaniel down.

“You have way too much energy to be up at 6:30.” Tim stated, and Nathaniel giggled as Tim let him go and he rolled off the couch onto the floor.

“That’s what Dad says. Are you staying for breakfast?” Nathaniel asked as Tim unsteadily rose to his feet. Tim wrapped his blanket over his shoulders and followed Nathaniel into the kitchen. He had borrowed Jason’s clothes and they did _not_ fit him. 

“I guess I am,” he said, eyeing the pancake batter Jason had thrown to the counter. “I have to go into Wayne Enterprises at some point anyway.” He said as he slid on top of a barstool. Jason didn’t say a word, so Tim turned to face Nathaniel.

“Is Mrs. Y still telling you guys stories about her husband?” Tim asked and Nathaniel lit up with excitement.

“Oh yeah, the other day she said he accidentally dropped one of her flowerpots the other day on his foot! She said it was really funny.” Nathaniel rambled and Tim drew his knees into his chest with a smile.

“I’m glad you still like school.” Tim said and Nathaniel shrugged. 

“It’s okay,” he said. “But I really like going. My friends are nice.”

“Glad to hear it.” Tim replied and he cheered as Jason pressed a cup of coffee into his hands. “Thanks.” Tim began to take a sip before he realized Nathaniel was staring at him with his mouth wide open. Tim raised a brow but then realized his left arm was showing. “Oh, uh, this--”

“What happened?” Nathaniel shrieked, practically falling out of his seat and rushing to grab Tim’s arm. He ran his small hand over the uneven stitches with concern in his eyes. “Did this happen last night?”

“Yeah, but it’s okay. I’m all good, see?” Tim asked as he ran his finger over the twisted line. “Your dad fixed me up okay.”

“It looks bad, Tim. Really bad.” Nathaniel fussed. Tim glanced at Jason, who had said nothing the entire time and was busy fixing his pancakes. He was tapping his fingers on the counter and refusing to help Tim out of this situation.

“Scarecrow got to us last night is all. Your dad was a little out of it while doing my stitches.” Tim explained and Nathaniel’s face softened.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore?”

“No, it doesn’t, I swear. This stuff just happens, we get hurt all the time, okay? You have nothing to worry about.” Tim said, and was relieved when Jason slid two plates full of pancakes their way. Jason leaned his arms to the counter and turned to Nathaniel.

“Like he said, this stuff just happens, Nate. We didn’t want to wake you last night.”

Nathaniel climbed back into his seat and swallowed hard around a forkful of pancakes. “But if you’re both hurt, who’s going to help you then?” Tim and Jason exchanged a glance. “What if I learned how to help?” He asked.

“You’re too young--” Jason started but Nathaniel shook his head and turned to Tim for help. 

“You guys were my age when you started being Robins! Why can’t I just learn how to make you guys feel better?” Nathaniel asked, and Tim busied himself in his pancakes. That was Jason’s call. 

Jason was serious about not letting Nathaniel out on patrol. Nate would be perfectly safe if both he and Jason were with him, but Jason was horrified to even consider it. And considering last night, Tim had a feeling he knew why.

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt. Alfred could probably teach you,” Jason sighed. “And you can practice on me.” He said and Tim shivered at the thought of someone practicing stitches on him.

“Jason--”

“What, it’s not like he can do any worse than those.” He said, gesturing to Tim’s.

“If this leaves a nasty scar, you know you’re dead to me.” Tim glared at him.

“As horrible as that sounds, I hope it does.” Jason snickered, and Tim threw his blanket at his head.

\--

“Holy shit, did the second Robin skimp out on his stitching lessons?” Stephanie asked as she and Tim sat shoulder to shoulder on her couch, shoveling takeout into their faces. She held a fry in one hand and Tim’s hand in the other, and ran her thumb along all twenty-three of his stitches. She threaded their hands together.

They were at Steph’s tiny little apartment, that just barely fared as walking distance to the university she was attending. Tim had initially been here for a reason, but now it was late and they were both a tad drunk and Tim knew for a fact he’d be staying the night at this rate.

Tim rolled his eyes. “Shut up, he got hit with the gas. He was a little out of it.” He explained. Stephanie frowned and dropped his arm.

“You should have said something.” Stephanie said and Tim shrugged dismissively. 

“I knew I would be fine. And if he _did_ hurt me he wouldn’t mean it.”

“But we could have gotten your stitches done _right,_ Tim. Jason would have swallowed his pride if it meant you being safe.” Stephanie replied and Tim said nothing as he leaned to the coffee table and tipped his beer against his lips. 

“Like I said, Jason got hit with the gas. I needed to see if he was okay, too.” Tim said and Steph giggled.

“Who knew you were actually a big softie.” Steph prodded him in the side and Tim batted her hand away. 

“Maybe it was for Nathaniel. You didn’t think about that, huh?” Tim asked and a silence lengthened between them. Steph cuddled into his side.

“That reminds me, how’s Kon?” She asked with a yawn, and Tim blinked.

“I haven’t talked to him in a little. He’s offworld right now.” Tim replied, his voice light.

“Do you still have a crush on him?” Steph asked. 

Tim paused. _That_ was a tiny development. Kon was Tim’s best friend, and Tim trusted him with his life. And after spending so much time with him, Tim had a feeling that he might have… liked him at some point or another.

Tim glanced down at her, and glanced down at the several beers she’d drank. She’d had a full day of college and he’d _tried_ to help her study for her tests without being condescending. It was difficult not to get annoyed at her for not knowing basic formulas. To say it lightly, though, she was beyond tired and beyond drunk.

“No,” Tim said, turning back to the TV as Stephanie’s eyes slowly shut and she cuddled further into the crook of his arm. “I don’t.” He laid his head on top of hers, and pulled her further into his side.


	8. Not Starting Anything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now. The Wayne Manor has a visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoy! :))

“I’m going to lose my mind! Why is everything happening while I’m gone?” Stephanie groaned. Tim chuckled as Stephanie threw her head back in dismay. He turned onto his stomach and brought his blankets up and over his shoulders. It was 6AM where Tim was and 6PM where Steph was. He was starting his day and after patrol she’d be ending hers. 

“Don’t know. You should come back home before anything else happens.” Tim teased, and Steph laughed.

“No, but seriously, you’re meeting his girlfriend today?”

“Apparently. He told Dick he had a guest coming over that he wanted everyone to meet, so we can only guess it’s her.”

“You need to tell me _everything._ Timothy Jackson Drake, _everything._ ” She commanded, and Tim nodded amicably. 

“I will, I promise. Maybe if this works out you _will_ get to meet her one day.”

“Aww I can’t believe this!” Stephanie squealed excitedly. “The same thing happened with Nathan, do you remember how little he was? I had to wait to meet him _after._ ” She said, and Tim nodded again and flipped his hair out of his face. It was growing long again like he had it a few years ago.

“And now he has a girlfriend.” Tim finished and Stephanie threw her head back and groaned again. “If shit hits the fan I’ll call you and Cass right away.” Tim said and Stephanie chuckled again.

“I wonder how long Jason’s known?”

“Knowing him, probably awhile. He probably told Nathaniel to tell us, though. Damian already looked into her entire backstory, _if you can believe it._ ” Tim replied sarcastically.

“I can’t believe all my babies are growing up! Dami’s turned into the stalker I always dreamed he would be.” She laughed giddily, and Tim rolled his eyes. 

“Are things getting better over there, at least?”

“Yeah, and Cass agrees. It’s getting a comfortable kind of quiet over here so we should be home soon.” Steph said. Tim nodded to himself, and glanced up as he heard someone sprint down the hall just outside his door.

“I have to say, Steph, can’t say I’m used to living back here,” Tim said as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. “All the yelling and fighting makes me miss _my home._ ”

“Oh, you love it. And besides when was the last time you even lived there?”

“Before I left for the Justice League.” Tim said without hesitation. Steph snorted on the other side and her smile was sly.

“BS. More like _years_ before you left for the Justice League. You lived off of Jason’s couch for a long time, dude.” Steph countered with a chuckle. 

“He makes a really good breakfast, okay? ..And dinner. You can’t blame me.” Tim muttered.

“Whatever man,” Steph glanced up. “It’s time for our patrol. Let me know what happens tonight!” She yelled, and Tim giggled and hung up. 

He shoved his phone into his pocket and ducked his head out in the hallway curiously. When he didn’t see anyone, he could hear the chaos in the kitchen as he neared closer. He stretched his arms over his head and peered inside.

“Dick, what… are you doing?” Tim asked as Dick stood precariously on top of the counter with a cookbook in his hands. He paced back and forth, and Tim didn’t even want to think about how horrified Alfred would be if he saw what was happening.

“I…” Dick said excitedly, drawing out the vowel and tossing the cookbook at Tim. “Am going to make the best dinner this family has ever _seen._ ” He said, dropping off the counter in front of him. Dick took Tim’s hands in his and opened the book.

“It’ll be like a thanksgiving feast. Remember when I visited one year way long ago and Alfred made us this?” Dick asked, pointing to the recipe of a stuffed turkey at the bottom of the page. Tim gave him a small smile. Yeah, miraculously, he did remember. Dick had been off for five months, and he was returning for dinner. It _was_ a holiday, but the amount of food Alfred had made was insane. Between him, Dick, Bruce, and Barbara, it was a miracle they had finished almost all of it. But now there were going to be _eight_ people, and all of them could eat. “I’m gonna make that and a lot other things. I just wanna make a good impression.”

“She’s your average Gothamite visiting Wayne Manor. I imagine she’ll get a good impression.” Tim yawned, pressing the book back into his arms. Dick looked him over and tilted his head to the side thoughtfully.

“You wanna help?” He asked. Tim looked up at him in surprise.

“Dick, I don’t cook,” Tim murmured, raising a brow. “And I have a lot to work to do.” At Dick’s frown Tim reassessed.

“I _could_ work here though, if you’re okay with that?” Tim asked, and Dick smiled.

“Yeah, set up wherever Babybird. I’d love that,” He smiled. “And Dami’s still asleep so he won’t bother us for a while.” Tim nodded and skipped back down to the hallway to his room. He felt like a kid again. He used to cherish these moments with Dick because the guy was _never_ home. It was ironic now because _Tim_ was the one who was never home. 

“So,” Tim began as he slid on top of a barstool. He laid out numerous binders and pens and sat his laptop down with a clunk. Dick looked at him in awe over his shoulder. “How have you been? We haven’t talked in awhile.”

“No, we haven’t…” Dick breathed, concerned. “Is this.. Your normal set up?” He asked, gesturing with an elbow at his binders. Tim shook his head as he got up and walked over to the coffee machine.

“No, there’s normally much more. But I figure today I’ll focus on finalizing all of these cases first before I move onto new ones,” Tim said with a sigh. “But enough about me, what about you?” He asked with a sideways glance. Tim wasn’t in the mood to talk about his work.

“Oh, I’m good. Same ole trying to keep Dami in line and dragging him out to patrol, you know how it is.” He shrugged with a smile as he tore through the fridges and cabinets. “Barbara was asking for you the other day.”

“Oh, really?” Tim asked as he rose a freshly brewed cup of coffee to his lips. “She’s going to be here tonight, right?”

“Oh yeah, of course. You really think she’d miss this for anything?” Dick asked and Tim shook his head. “Her and I were actually wondering more how _you’ve_ been. How’s Kon? I haven’t talked to him in a while, either.” 

“He’s good. Not exactly pleased that I’m not home now, but we’re alright,” Tim began to panic. “You and Babs are still going strong?” He asked, and Dick laughed.

“I sure hope so. As far as I _know_ we’re doing good,” Dick said with a nervous laugh. “I _so_ don’t deserve her but she’s dealing with me and I’m grateful.” He said dryly, and Tim smiled. They sat in silence for a while, Tim tapping along on his keyboard and Dick starting numerous dishes and humming to himself.

“Hey,” Dick began after awhile, as Tim was sipping on his second cup of coffee and sitting crossed-legged on his seat. Tim looked up. He never liked that tone of voice with Dick. He used to be chill, but up until recently--as in a few years ago--he turned into someone who worried _all the time._ Dick had made a lot of mistakes, mostly involving his relationships with this family. Have all of those problems been discussed? Of course not. But they all knew they existed. Everyone had qualms with _everyone._ What mattered was forgetting about them so they could get their jobs done. And that… wasn’t healthy. And Dick became a worry-wart. “How have you been?”

“I said I was good?” Tim asked, raising a brow. “I’m doing okay.”

“Are you?” Dick asked again, turning over his shoulder with his hands resting on his hips. “You know you can talk to me about anything.” Dick tried.

“I’m okay. Just… getting work done.” Tim replied, tucking his hair behind his ear. “I would tell you if something was really wrong.” Tim lied. Dick looked him up and down uncertainly but snapped his mouth shut.

“Okay,” he said, his confidence not showing on his face. “I trust you.” He said, and Tim looked to the floor.

“Thanks,” Tim murmured. “I mean it.”

\--

“What do you mean we’re visiting Bruce Wayne?” Jess asked, her jaw dropping. Jason glanced at the rear-view mirror to catch the expression on her face and Nathaniel turned over his shoulder sympathetically in the passenger seat.

“Dad’s family-friends with them. He’s friends with the Waynes, and they’re like uncles to me,” Nathaniel explained simply, and Jess’ eyes went wider. “I grew up over there.”

“And you don’t tell me that until now?” She shrieked, horrified. “I would have worn something nicer!” She wailed, and Nathaniel chuckled nervously as he caught Jason’s eye roll.

“What you’re wearing is fine, I swear. There’s going to be other people there.” Nathaniel tried, and Jess leaned forward, her hands on the sides of their seats.

“How many people are going to be there?” She asked, and Nathaniel looked to Jason.

“Every Wayne you can think of and someone’s girlfriend.” Jason replied, and Jess’ face went white as a sheet.

“Bruce Wayne, Richard Grayson, Timothy Drake, Cassandra Wayne, and Damian Wayne?” She asked, her voice tiny. Jason shrugged and Nathaniel gave her a pity smile.

“They’re not as intimidating as they seem, I promise… but, uh, not Cass. She’s traveling...” He offered quietly, but it fell on deaf ears.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! I have no idea what I’m going to do.” She rambled, and Jason turned over his shoulder.

“You’ll be fine, Jess. The less you stress the better you’ll be,” Jason said. “They all know you’re coming and they all want to meet you.” He added, and Jessica smiled a little.

“Thanks Mr. Todd…” she murmured quietly, and Nathaniel turned back over his shoulder and reached for her hand.

“You’ll be fine, I promise.”

\--

“Decided to join us tonight?”

“And miss seeing you? Never.” Tim smiled, stepping aside to let Jason and the two kids inside. Jason shoved his hands into his pants pockets as Tim shut the door behind them. They stood shoulder to shoulder as the girl clung to Nathaniel’s arm, staring wide-eyed at the tall ceilings and elegant banisters. The two turned back over to face them, and Jessica went scarlet.

“Hi, you must be Jessica. Tim Drake.” Tim said, extending a hand. His first impression of Jessica? She was _harmless. Adorable._ She reeked of Nathaniel’s sweetness.

“Woah, it’s so nice to meet you,” She said, taking his hand and giving him a hearty shake. Tim’s eyes widened in surprise and he chuckled a little. Jessica pretended not to notice the fact Tim Drake was a lot tinier than she thought he would be. She towered over him. “You can call me Jess.” 

“Alright well everyone else is upstairs. Bruce Wayne will be joining us later,” Tim announced, and Nathaniel and Jason shared a glance over Jess’ head. Bruce was doing a quick patrol, but surprisingly enough was just as invested as everyone else to meet Nathaniel’s girlfriend. Aside from other reasons--being figuring out whether or not she was a _threat._ “Dick’s still cooking, so if you’d like you can take her on a little tour. Be in the kitchen in 10, okay?” Tim said, and Nathaniel nodded. He threaded her hand and together the couple was off.

“She’s sweet.”  
“ _So_ sweet,” Tim agreed. “She’s perfect for him.” He added.

“Nate only told her a few minutes ago we were visiting the Waynes.” Jason said as they walked side by side on the way to the kitchen. Tim snorted.

“Of course he did. That doesn’t surprise me at all.” Tim said. He glanced up at Jason and looked back down.

“How long have they been together?” He asked, and Jason sighed.

“Maybe a year. Friends for longer.” Jason said.

“I have a feeling Nathaniel would be able to tell if she was trouble or not.” Tim noted and Jason nodded.

“I trust the kid. But it helped that he let me meet her. She’s a full package, that one.”

“Yeah,” Tim breathed, glancing up at him again. “She is.” Jason pushed his way through the double doors and Dick started to beam. Damian upheld his normal unbothered stature and simply greeted Jason with a glare.

“Where’s the girl?” He asked, and Jason rolled his eyes.

“He’s showing her around, cool it.” Jason muttered and Damian leaned his arm to the counter, unamused.

“I don’t see anything wrong with her.” Tim announced, clearing the air. Damian snorted and Dick silenced him with a glare as he pulled the last thing out of the oven. Barbara rolled her wheelchair up to Jason and grinned when he leaned down to give her a hug.

“Hi, we don’t see each other anymore, do we?” She asked and Jason shook his head.

“No, we don’t.”

“Fix that, hm?” She said, punching him in the thigh. Tim ducked to hide his smile. Barbara had given him the same lecture, which he knew he was guilty of. Somehow he and Jason getting lectured for the same thing felt very familiar.

“When’s B getting back?” Jason asked and Dick tsked, throwing his oven mitts into a drawer. Tim realized with a start he must have gotten that from Damian. Dick may have screwed up being there for him and Jason during their childhoods, but he was a constant for Damian _and_ Nathaniel.

“Who knows. He’ll be here when he feels like showing up.” Dick said, and Jason crossed his arms with a nod. Jason glanced around the room again and looked down at Tim suspiciously.

“The boyfriend isn’t here?” Jason asked, and Tim frowned.

“No… I didn’t tell him...” Tim muttered, “He’s busy.” Tim fixed, and silence filled the room. Damian suddenly glanced to the door at the other side of the room and rose to his feet. Tim was relieved and shifted to his other foot, uncomfortable.

“They’re here.” He announced, folding his arms behind his back. Dick went to stand by Damian excitedly, bumping his shoulder and leaning over him. Damian didn’t even flinch at the closeness, having become used to it. 

Nathaniel opened the door and led her into the kitchen. Jess looked positively mortified as she glanced around the room. By the time Damian turned 18, the media had fallen in love with the magazines, and the photographers loved the Waynes as their models whenever they swept through Gotham. 

Seeing as it seemed to be the new billionaire socialite thing to do, Bruce Wayne took to it immediately. And effectively everyone in the world suddenly had their favorite Wayne to idolize. Tim didn’t dare check his Twitter anymore. You had the people who loved Dick because though he was older, he still looked like a ray of sunshine who never aged. The people who liked Bruce were more on the older side and those that liked silver foxes. Tim had a whole plethora of people in love with him, but he ventured to guess that was because he was pretty and looked to be younger. Cassandra had a bunch of girls in love with her because you could tell just by looking at her how powerful and strong she was. Damian seemed to attract a much younger audience-- those that were his age or a little younger--and had the most “edits” or whatever they’re called using the photos and the very few interviews Damian’s agreed to go on. Tim imagined if Jason was involved he’d have a _lot_ of fans.

Nathaniel cleared his throat. “Hello everyone, this is Jessica. She’ll be joining us for dinner tonight.” He introduced, and Dick rushed forward past Damian who had narrowed his eyes.

“It’s so nice to meet you, I’m Dick Grayson but please call me Dick.” He smiled, and Jason fake vomited. Tim shoved his shoulder. Jason always hated and made fun of how nice Dick was for people. He didn’t bother hiding this hatred then. Jessica shook his hand, jaw having dropped. Dick grabbed Damian by the arm and dragged him forward. Damian stiffly extended a hand.

“Damian Wayne. A pleasure.” He droned, and Jessica gave him a smile. She looked over at Tim and Jason, and walked forward to greet Babs. She was totally out of her element here, but seemed to be fairing alright. 

“Hello my dear,” Barbara grinned, taking Jess’ hands in hers. “These boys are a lot of work but you’ve chosen a good one.” She said, and Nathaniel went bright red and wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders. Jessica laughed.

“Thank you, I like him a lot,” She replied. “It’s very nice to meet you all, thank you for having me.” She said, and unlike a lot of other people who have ever said that Tim thought it sounded genuine. 

“Oh, it’s our pleasure. Dinner should be ready, so you can all show yourselves out to the dining room.” Dick announced, pressing a hand to Damian’s lower back and forcing him forward. Damian rolled his eyes and gestured with his shoulder to the dining room, leading the way. Before Jason and Tim could even think about following, Dick grabbed them by their collars.

_“What?”_

“Help me serve these,” Dick glared at Jason. “And also please don’t start anything. _Both_ of you.” Dick said, pointing a finger to the both of them. Tim sighed and Jason chuckled.

“Yes, _boss._ ” Jason muttered and Dick gave him another glare.

“ _Behave._ Take these out.” Dick said and Jason and Tim complied but not before exchanging a glance. With a sigh Tim followed Jason into the room, both of them easily balancing numerous dishes on their arms. Jessica was relieved when she saw the pair of them walk in. Damian had taken the spot to the right of the head of the table where Bruce was going to sit. He had Nathaniel and Jessica sitting three seats down. Which meant he had planned it out in his stupid head that Tim and Jason would be sitting right next to one another. Of course.

“Wow, who made all of this?” Jessica asked as Jason and Tim took several trips back and forth.

“Grayson did. He’s quite good at cooking.” Damian answered with his normal amount of bluntness, and Barbara leaned her arms to the table. She and Damian had left a seat between them for Dick.

“How long have you lived in Gotham, Jessica?” She asked. Jessica folded her hands to the table with a grin.

“All my life! I’ve known Nathan since freshman year.” She said, and returned Dick’s smile as he entered the room with his turkey. Tim begrudgingly took his place at the head of the table’s left and Jason filed in between him and Nathaniel.

“Okay, I’m sure Bruce wouldn’t mind joining us late,” Dick said, clapping his hands together. He put a hand to Damian’s shoulder and slid into his seat. “Dig in everyone.” He said, and Damian happily obliged. 

“So Jessica was saying that she’s lived in Gotham her whole life,” Barbara said to fill the silence. “Where at?”

“Oh, I live in Upper Gotham Proper. Pretty much right next to the highschool.” She said. Tim saw Damian nod approvingly from across the table. Growing up in a better part of Gotham meant there was a lesser chance for someone to be bad news.

“We live in Blüdhaven which isn’t too far from there.” Barbara said, gesturing to Dick who nodded.

“Oh yeah, I’m a cop there.” Dick added with a smile. Jason muttered something under his breath and Tim stomped on his foot.

“Tim, why don’t you tell Jessica about what you’ve been doing at Wayne Enterprises?’ Jason asked without hesitation and Tim forced himself not to glare. Asshole.

“Oh, I’m sure she wouldn’t be interested. We’re just working on alternative methods to utilize fission and fusion processes to ensure we are using our nuclear resources efficiently, and--” Tim paused, snapping his mouth shut. “That’s about it.” He finished, and Jason chuckled. W.E. did more than just jets. They did a lot for industries, too. 

“Actually, that is interesting. I took a physics class two years ago that went into detail about that.” Jessica piped up, and Nathaniel did his best to remain inconspicuous. “Can I ask what you’re doing?” She said, leaning forward to meet Tim’s eyes. Tim swallowed his forkful in surprise. Jason asking him about his work at W.E. was his plan to annoy Tim, because when prompted he used to talk about it for ages. It turned out that fact remained the same. 

“If you’re familiar with both fusion and fissure, it can be argued that fission is better than fusion. Now, it’s obvious that fusion is widely a waste of time, due to it being much less accessible than fissure. We have a team trying to work on a way to use fusion, but most of our creative team have their efforts focused on fissure processes. We’re just running tests and experiments to try and reduce the radioactive products that are often a result of using nuclear energy.” Tim rambled. Damian and Dick fell silent, the topic having gone right over their heads. Barbara was just amused that Jessica was interested.

“Did you catch any of that?” Barbara asked, and Jessica and Nathaniel shrugged.

“It makes sense to me. Our teacher didn’t really talk about fusion for the same reasons,” Jessica said, and Nathaniel nodded. “But I barely passed that class.” She admitted with a giggle. Tim had a feeling “passing” for those pair of kids meant finishing with an A-plus or at _least_ flying colors. Tim couldn’t relate.

Tim kept eating while the rest of the table had conversation. They had fulfilled the purpose of a dinner party. In a few minutes, unless Bruce showed up, Tim would politely excuse himself with the defense of him needing to do work. He came, he saw, he heard, and he participated. That was the B-minus effort he had learned to love.

Jason on the other hand, as far as he knew from looking at his files for the first time years ago, was also an A-plus student. Jason, unlike Tim and literally any other of the Bat brats, liked school. He envied knowledge and thrived in it. The issues Jason had in school more so revolved around him picking way too many fights. And that didn’t surprise Tim at all. Tim glanced up to find Jason looking at him, and in reply he raised an eyebrow. Jason didn’t say anything, but leaned back into his chair with his arms crossed. 

Tim played with his food with the tip of his fork. “What are you doing?” Tim lowered his voice.

“Nothing,” Jason replied simply. “Just looking.” He said, and Tim indulged him.

“At?” He pressed, and Jason chuckled. 

“You. When was the last time we had dinner together?” He said with a shrug. It was rhetorical--they both knew the last time they had dinner together. It had just been awhile. And they both knew that, too.

“The last time we’ve had dinner together just the two of us was a long time ago.” Tim stated, taking a sip of his glass. Jason tilted his chair backward.

“Mhmm.” He murmured, and Tim gave him a sideways glance.

“Jay, what do you think?” 

All four of Jason’s chair legs fell to the floor with a snap. Tim took another sip of his drink. “Sorry, wasn’t listening.” Jason said with a fake smile. “What was that?”

“I _said,_ ” Dick muttered, “What do you think about Nathaniel studying medicine?”

“It’s a great idea,” Jason shrugged. “If he loves doing it then I don’t see a problem. He coulda said he wanted to be a dentist and I wouldn’t have batted an eye.” Jason said. The table all turned to Tim. Were they all being interrogated?

“Medicine is a great idea. We always need more doctors.” Tim added, and the table seemed satisfied enough with the response. Tim noticed Damian go rigid across from him, and Tim realized he could hear it too. Jason stiffened and moved his chair forward. 

“Ah, he’s home.” Dick said, addressing the elephant in the room. When Jessica and Nathaniel made a move to get up Dick waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it, he’ll be here in a few seconds. He probably won’t even notice we have guests until he sits down.” Dick beamed and Jason suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. 

Tim said nothing, and took another sip of his drink.

\--

“Why do they do that?”

“Dick.”

“Why do they have to make a scene in every situation they’re ever in together?”

_“Dick.”_

“Seriously! I told them not to be weird and what did they do? They made a scene.”

“Dick!” Barbara shouted, and Dick clapped a hand over his face. He had been pacing, haphazardly cleaning up the kitchen while Barbara kept him company. She was waiting for this emotional meltdown, and had already figured out what she was going to say to combat it. 

“Sorry,” he said, and he leaned against the counter, clutching the edge until his knuckles turned white. “I can’t believe they still can’t keep it together for more than five seconds.” Barbara shrugged, her voice turning sinister.

“It’s just all that tension between them,” she murmured. “That’s, you know, been unresolved for the past nine years.” Dick glanced up to meet her eye.

“What tension?” He groaned. “They _do not_ have tension.”

“Richard Grayson you would know tension the minute it walked its way into the room.” Barbara countered, and Dick looked up at her in shock from where he was hanging his head. 

“Jay and Tim do not have tension.” He said again, and Barbara shook her head with a laugh.

“Then what was that at the table?”

“That was them being weird, like always.” Dick replied quickly. 

“Listen, you can’t tell me them staring at each other and practically playing _footsies_ under the table doesn’t connotate tension.”

“They haven’t spoken in years.”

“Hence the unresolved tension.” Barbara snapped. “They solved several cases. Hell, they were able to pinpoint the Joker’s location minutes after we’d figured out he was missing. People don’t just _do that._ Batman doesn’t just _do that._ ” Barbara pointed out. Dick dropped his shoulders.

“They did work well together.” He admitted, and Barbara rolled up closer to him.

“So there’s tension,” Barbara grinned. Dick nodded and sucked in his cheeks.

“Yeah, I guess,” Dick muttered, but Barbara continued to stare. “I am _not_ talking to you about this anymore.” He whined, pressing both palms to his eyes in dismay.

“Whatever. You’re such a baby.” Barbara teased, and he shook his head.

“What are you complaining about?”

“Nothing, B.” Dick sighed, turning away from Barbara. He grabbed a rag and began to wipe down the countertops. “How’d you like Jessica?”

“Jessica is fine. She was nice and seemed oblivious,” Bruce grunted. “I have no issues with her.”

“I’m glad that not everyone we meet ends up shoving a knife into our backs.” Dick sang and Barbara groaned.

“Please stop saying that.” Barbara sighed and Dick laughed. Bruce crossed his arms and before he could say anything Babs cut him off. “We’re not talking about me. How about instead we talk about Tim who I haven’t seen in years.”

“Isn’t he upstairs?” Bruce asked.

“No,” Barbara replied, deadpan. “Which is exactly why I want to talk about him.” Bruce sat himself down at the bar as Dick wordlessly continued to clean. 

“I can’t tell if he’s doing better or worse.” Bruce said quietly, and Barbara shook her head.

“He seems different somehow. He’s not the Timothy Drake that left six years ago.” Barbara said.

“I think the Justice League stuff is really getting to him,” Dick pitched in. “He’s drowning in it.”

“I thought forcing him to sleep would help, but maybe it’s made him worse.” Bruce said.

“It’s his work ethic. He overworked himself before so what’s going to stop him now?” Barbara asked.

“I hope Kon’ll slap some sense into him. He’s probably just as fed up as we are,” Dick said and they both nodded. “I just hope he can learn how to relax.” Barbara snorted at that.

“Tim Drake learning how to relax? Don’t make me laugh,” Barbara muttered dryly. “He’s always been uptight.” 

“That is not true!” Dick said, scandalized. “Not always..” He said, and frowned as he remembered he and Barbara’s previous conversation. “He can relax when he wants to.” Dick tried to argue. Bruce shook his head.

“That’s the problem, he doesn’t think he _needs_ to relax. His main priority is his work and he comes last,” Bruce sighed. “I just hope one day we get the chance to spell it out to him and he _listens._ ”

—

Tim held his breath, squeezing his eyes shut while he pressed his forehead into the pillows.

He sighed and arched further back into Kon’s hands, tight on his sides. They were on their third round and Tim felt empty. And then it was over.

Tim turned to lay on his back, and watched Kon as he cleaned up. Kon glanced over at him and stretched, looking him over. Tim ducked under the covers and turned to face him on his side.

“How was the dinner party?” Kon asked, sitting on the bed. Tim shrugged and propped his head up with his arm. 

“It was fine. Nathaniel has a cute girlfriend.” Tim said, and Kon nodded. He seemed uninterested, and Tim couldn’t blame him. 

“No one to mess up your ‘operation?’” He teased, and Tim didn’t reply. Kon looked away with a sigh. And Tim stared helplessly at his back. “Do you want to go for a round—” Tim dove for his phone.

“Oh, shoot. Steph’s calling, I have to take this. It’s probably urgent.” Tim said, snatching up his boxers from off the floor. Kon looked up at him and paused.

“Didn’t know you kept your phone on silent.” Kon said, and was met with defiant silence.

“I’m going to shower.” Kon said, and Tim ducked into their hallway.

Stephanie picked up on the fourth ring.

“Tim good afternoon my lovely friend, what’s up?”

“Umm..” Tim listened until he was sure Kon had stepped into the shower. Kon had super hearing but being in the shower muffled out most of the noise Tim learned. “Nothing… much.” He breathed.

“Ew, you sound like sex, dude,” Stephanie groaned. “What’s on your mind? You only call me when you have to.” Stephanie pointed out. Tim took a second to catch his breath.

“I’m calling to let you know the dinner party went well.” He said.

“It did? Oh, I’m so glad.” She sighed in relief. “Nothing crazy happened?”

“No, not really,” Tim replied. He at least didn’t see it that way. “She was super polite. She actually questioned me about _nuclear energy._ ” Tim said and Stephanie cackled.

“Ewww, no she did not. I can’t believe we welcomed another total nerd into Wayne Manor.” She whined and Tim couldn’t help but laugh.

“What matters is that she’s a nice person. I hope she stays for good.” Tim said seriously.

“Speaking of staying for good, are you and Kon still arguing?”

Tim glanced off toward his bedroom. “I think what happened five minutes ago proves otherwise.” He said happily, though the smile didn’t show on his face. “We’re okay.” Steph seemed unconvinced on the other line and ignored his crude joke.

“ _Okaaaaayyy,_ ” She said, drawing out the word. “I believe you.”

They only talked for another few seconds before they hung up. Tim went down the stairs and ducked into the kitchen and lingered by the fridge, debating whether or not he wanted to grab a beer. He rubbed his eyes with a sigh, and leaned his elbows and head to his counter as he cherished these few seconds of silence. He had to work in a few hours. He needed to sleep, but he was miserable. Was this worth it? Was any of this worth it?

He admitted defeat and went back up the stairs, crawling into bed.


End file.
